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LEGENDS  AND   SATIRES 


FROM  MEDIEVAL  LITERATURE 


EDITED  BY 


MARTHA  HALE  SHACKFORD,  Ph.D. 

ASSOCIATE    PROFESSOR   OF   ENGLISH    LITERATURE 
WELLESLEY    COLLEGE 


•      j    » .. 


.•••,*■>->>• 

>         •  >        >       J  , 


GINN  AND  COMPANY 

BOSTON  •  NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •  LONDON 


Jo 


COPYRIGHT,  1913,  BY  MARTHA  HALE  SHACKFORD 

ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 

813.10 


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GINN  AND  COMPANY  •  PRO- 
PRIETORS •  BOSTON  •  U.S.A. 


V 


■k 


W 

k  PREFACE 

This  volume  of  translations  is  prepared  especially  for 
the  use  of  college  sophomores  who  are  studying  English 
poetry  of  the  fourteenth  century,  but  it  is  hoped  that  other 
readers  may  be  interested  in  these  old  legends.  Ideally, 
it  would  be  better  for  students  to  read  the  original  texts, 
s  but  every  teacher  knows  how  difficult  it  is  to  provide  texts 
in  this  field.  The  various  Middle  English  Readers  are  not 
^  frankly  popular  in  their  choice  of  subject  matter,  and  the 
publications  of  learned  societies  are  far  too  expensive  to  be 
available  for  classroom  work.  It  does  not  seem,  therefore, 
entirely  an  offense  against  scholarship  to  offer  students  a 
*>\  volume  that  will  serve  humbly  as  companion  to  "  Piers  Plow- 
man," "The  Pearl,"  Chaucer's  poems,  and  various  ro- 
mances and  lyrics  which  are  studied  in  carefully  edited  texts. 

The  modern  translations  are  literal,  but  a  certain  freedom 
has  been  used  in  reshaping  sentences  and  in  omitting  con- 
ventional phrases  when  they  proved  too  monotonous  in 
their  repetitions.  Quite  enough  tags  and  awkward  construc- 
tions have  been  preserved  to  illustrate  fully  the  style  of 
mediaeval  clerks. 

Acknowledgment  is  made  for  help  received  from  Gaston 
Paris's  "La  litterature  frangaise  au  moyen  age,"  and  from 
W.  H.  Schofield's  "  English  Literature  from  the  Norman 
Conquest  to  Chaucer."  Miss  Marion  E.  Markley  has  con- 
tributed two  translations  from  Old  French,  and  has  given 

many  helpful  suggestions  regarding  details. 

M.  H.  S. 
Wellesley,  Massachusetts 

iii 


N 


h 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION vii 

PROEM 

Of  Man's  Body 3 

Of  Man's  Soul      4 

DEBATE 

The  Amorous  Contention  of  Phillis  and  Flora     .    .        7 
>    The  Pleading  of  the  Rose  and  of  the  Violet    ...      24 

VISION 

The  Purgatory  of  Saint  Patrick 33 

SAINTS'  LIVES 

The  Life  of  Saint  Brandon 53 

The  Life  of  Saint  Margaret 73 

PIOUS  TALES 

A  Miracle  of  God's  Body 81 

X  A  Miracle  of  the  Virgin 83 

The  Translation  of  Saint  Thomas  of  Canterbury     .  87 

ALLEGORY 

An  Extract  from  "The  Castle  of  Love" 95 

BESTIARY 

Lion,  Eagle,  Whale,  Siren 101 

LAPIDARY 

Diamond,  Sapphire,  Amethyst,  Geratite,  Chelidonius, 
Coral,  Heliotrope,  Pearl,  Pantheros  ;  Symbolism  of 
the  Carbuncle;  Symbolism  of  the  Twelve  Stones     .    m 

v 


vi  CONTENTS 

HOMILY 

Concerning  Miracle  Plays,  Games,  and  Minstrelsy   .  119 

SATIRE 

The  Song  of  the  University  of  Paris 12c 

The  Land  of  Cockaygne I2g 

The  Complaint  of  the  Husbandman 131 

Sir  Penny l^ 

LAY 

Sir  Orfeo 141 

NOTES 

Frontispiece !6i 

Proem i6x 

Debate 161 

Vision jfa 

Saints'  Livens 165 

Pious  Tales 167 

Allegory 168 

Bestiary 169 

Lapidary 170 

Homily 172 

Satire 172 

Lay i74 


INTRODUCTION 

To  create  anew  the  walls  and  towers  and  gardens  of  the 
mediaeval  world  is  a  comparatively  easy  task,  now  that  we 
have  so  many  aids  to  visualizing  that  departed  age,  but  it 
is  not  so  easy  to  make  live  again  the  thoughts  and  sentiments 
and  beliefs  of  a  vanished  generation.  All  our  study  of  his- 
tory is  valueless  unless  it  brings  a  clearer  revelation  of  the 
pulsing,  ardent  life  of  humanity.  We  search  old  records 
and  old  literature  that  we  may  find  the  true  image  of  a 
world  whose  hopes  and  fears  and  loves  prove  to  us  the 
slow  evolution  of  a  progressive  civilization  in  which  all 
human  beings  share.  Out  of  the  failures  and  the  doubts 
of  one  age  comes  the  quicker  power  of  another,  and  true 
progress  looks  both  backward  and  forward.  To  cherish 
old  traditions  is  both  a  duty  and  an  inspiration. 

The  reader  who  turns  his  face  toward  the  world  of  me- 
diaeval England  and  France,  seeking  to  know  the  spirit 
which  animated  our  ancestors  of  six  centuries  ago,  must 
recognize  in  plowman,  hermit,  knight,  friar,  or  minstrel 
the  fundamental  fact  that  their  life  was  actual  and  real,  not 
a  mere  tissue  of  mediaeval  costume  and  mechanical  move- 
ments. In  order  to  understand  that  epoch  it  is  essential 
for  one  to  study  in  detail  the  works  which  picture  the  life 
of  the  day.  The  world  of  chivalry,  with  its  brilliant  pag- 
eantry and  its  vows  of  courtesy,  loyalty,  and  liberality,  is  re- 
vealed in  the  pages  of  Froissart  and  in  the  many  metrical 

vii 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

romances,  where  various  aspects  of  knightly  life  are 
described.  "  King  Horn,"  "  Guy  of  Warwick,"  "  Libeaus 
Desconus,"  "  Sir  Eglamour,"  "  The  Squire  of  Low 
Degree,"  and  others  tell  the  story  of  knighthood. 

Another  world  is  represented  in  "  Piers  Plowman,"  where 
the  oppression  of  the  poor  by  the  arrogant  rich  and  the 
corruption  of  church  and  state  are  described  in  racy  vernac- 
ular by  one  whose  soul  was  on  fire  with  devotion  to  truth 
and  justice.  Social  problems  are  enunciated,  and  the  misery 
wrought  by  human  ignorance  and  selfishness  is  depicted  in 
satire  keen,  shrewd,  and  piercing. 

Chaucer,  the  supreme  poet  of  the  fourteenth  century  in 
England,  portrays  a  world  of  normal  folk  who  represent 
all  classes  and  conditions  except  the  very  high  and  the 
very  low.  While,  in  certain  ways,  Chaucer's  work  is  easier 
to  read  and  understand  than  that  of  any  of  his  contem- 
poraries, students  often  read  it  very  superficially  and  fail  to 
recognize  the  deeply  rooted  traits  which  show  that  Chaucer 
was  the  child  of  his  epoch.  We  find  in  the  English  poet 
traces  of  the  influence  of  Continental  life  and  literature ; 
we  see  him  reading  the  classics  of  Rome,  of  Florence,  and 
of  Paris ;  but  he  was  also  always  intimately  familiar  with 
the  minor  literature  popular  among  his  own  countrymen. 

Since  an  understanding  of  Chaucer  is  a  vivid  introduc- 
tion to  the  later  Middle  Ages,  it  is  essential  for  students  of 
that  period  to  have  some  acquaintance  with  the  common 
literary  types  of  Chaucer's  day.  The  translations  gathered 
together  in  this  book  are  representative  of  these  types, — 
debate,  vision,  allegory,  saints'  legends,  pious  tales,  satire, 
and  lay.  Few  examples  of  secular  literature  are  given,  for 
the  most  satisfactory  way  to  approach  the  secular  poetry 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

of  the  time  is  to  read  parts,  at  least,  of  the  "  Romance 
of  the  Rose,"  which  has  been  translated,  very  freely,  by 
F.  S.  Ellis.1  This  long  poem  is  a  compendium  of  the  ideals, 
manners,  and  tastes  of  the  fashionable  world  of  France 
and  of  England.  The  machinery  of  dream,  personification, 
and  allegory  ;  the  descriptions  of  nature  and  of  dress  ;  the 
attitude  towards  the  god  of  love  and  his  fabled  court ;  the 
satire  ;  and  the  pedantry  are  all  highly  significant  facts  in 
the  history  of  literature.  Knowing  this  romance,  one  knows 
the  heart  of  thirteenth  century  Paris.  The  Troubadours,2 
too,  should  be  studied  for  the  sake  of  understanding  one 
side  of  lyric  poetry.  All  this  secular  poetry,  however,  does 
not  account  for  Chaucer,  who  was  indebted  also  to  a  stream 
of  influence  coming  from  religious  legends  and  allegories. 
The  deeper  side  of  his  nature  responded  to  the  appeal  of 
pious  tales  and  records  of  saintly  lives  ;  superstitions  about 
nature  and  about  God  attracted  his  interest,  and  stirred 
him  to  that  effective  contemplation  which  resulted  in  clear, 
sane  judgments.  Religious  poetry  was,  first  and  last,  famil- 
iar matter  to  the  great  court  poet,  and  we  should  recognize 
its  characteristics  and  its  sovereign  appeal. 

We  must  remember  that  the  world  of  the  Middle  Ages 
was  essentially  and  positively  Catholic.  From  birth  to  death 
the  layman  was  under  the  guardianship  of  Holy  Church, 
and  bound  by  the  most  solemn  vows  to  perfect  obedience. 
Yet,  although  there  seems  to  be  a  certain  conventionality 
in  his  performance  of  these  duties,  there  was  a  very  lively 
concern  regarding  that  other  world  toward  which  he  was 
moving.   Close  to  the  spiritual  ecstasy  of  such  lives  as  that  of 

1  Temple  Classics,  3  vols.    Dutton,  New  York,  1900. 

2  B.  Smythe,  Trobador  Poets.  (Translations.)  Durfield,  New  York,  1911. 


x  INTRODUCTION 

Saint  Francis,  or  of  Saint  Catherine,  or  of  the  uncanonized 
Richard  Rolle,  there  was  a  dim,  frightened  foreboding 
that  perhaps  Evil  might  prove  the  triumphant  force. 
Love  of  God  was  no  stronger  than  fear  of  the  devil. 
Tales  of  the  black  magic  of  Satan  as  well  as  of  the  white 
magic  of  the  church  were  eagerly  listened  to  by  a  people 
quick  to  show  their  interest  in  any  manifestation  of  the 
supernatural.  Crude  and  childish  as  their  faiths  and  su- 
perstitions may  seem  to  a  more  liberal  age,  there  is  some- 
thing impressive  in  their  deep  conviction  of  hidden  truths. 
When  we  lose  all  sense  of  mystery  and  of  wonder  and  are 
wholly  free  from  any  illusions,  life  becomes  singularly  vapid, 
for  the  very  key  to  spiritual  existence  is  a  sense  of  infinite 
meanings  forever  challenging,  baffling,  and  dominating 
our  daily  life. 

"  But  God  forbede  but  men  shulde  leve 
Wei  more  thing  then  men  han  seen  with  ye ! " 

In  the  legends  and  allegories  and  satires  represented  in 
these  pages  the  reader  will  find  strange  and  fervent  faiths 
as  well  as  homely  pictures  of  the  world  as  it  is.  A  vigorous 
use  of  the  concrete  is  everywhere  evident ;  abstractions 
seem  not  to  exist  without  some  physical  traits  to  make 
them  real  to  the  ordinary  man.  Intensely  picturesque  and 
objective  are  the  descriptions  of  hell  and  of  heaven,  of  the 
lands  visited  by  Brandon,  of  Saint  Paul's  otter,  of  the 
miracles  of  Saint  Thomas,  of  the  virtues  of  the  coral,  and 
of  the  traits  of  Rose  and  of  Violet.  To  any  readers  there 
is  unending  charm  in  the  natural,  simple  style  of  setting 
forth  these  details  which  force  vivid  conceptions  upon  the 
imagination. 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

Growing  up  in  a  world  of  brilliant  court  life  and  becom- 
ing familiar  with  a  literary  art  which  placed  emphasis  upon 
the  concrete,  Chaucer  was  inevitably  destined  to  be  a  su- 
preme master  of  specific,  suggestive  realism.  He  loved 
every  aspect  of  existence,  and  he  wrought  his  descriptions 
with  an  art  precise  and  joyous.  The  French  poets  and 
the  English  preachers  taught  him  the  secret  of  appealing 
to  the  popular  love  of  visible  and  audible  images.  Yet 
his  greatest  power  is  that  dramatic  portrayal  of  human 
experience,  a  presentation  whose  quick  humor  and  over- 
flowing sympathy  have  made  him  beloved  by  generations. 
Impatient  of  affectation  in  art,  in  manner,  or  in  spiritual 
matters,  he  taught  sincerity.  His  humor,  poise,  and  fear- 
less, keen  mentality  will  always  have  their  healing  and 
wonder-working  qualities. 


LEGENDS  AND  SATIRES 
PROEM 

OF  MAN'S  BODY 
OF  MAN'S  SOUL 


OF  MAN'S  BODY1 

As  I  said  before,  the  King  of  Might  would  be  wor- 
shipped by  two  kinds  of  beings,  angel  and  man.  Adam 
was  created,  therefore,  to  make  the  tenth  order,  which 
Lucifer  tried  to  destroy.  Adam  was  not  made  of  earth 
alone,  but  of  four  elements :  his  blood  of  water,  his  flesh 
of  earth,  his  heat  of  fire,  and  his  breath  of  air.  His  head 
has  two  eyes.  The  sky  has  sun  and  moon  that,  as  men 
know,  are  set  for  sight ;  so  man's  eyes  serve  as  sun  and 
moon  of  light.  Seven  chief  stars  are  fixed  in  heaven,  and 
man's  head  has  seven  holes,  which,  if  you  think  about  it, 
you  may  find  with  little  labor.  This  breath  that  man  draws 
so  often  betokens  the  wind  that  blows  aloft,  of  which 
thunder  and  lightning  are  created,  as  breath  is  bred  in 
the  breast  with  a  cough.  All  waters  sink  into  the  sea,  so 
man's  stomach  drinks  all  liquors.  His  feet  bear  him  up 
from  falling,  as  .the  earth  upholds  all  things.  The  upper 
fire  gives  man  his  sight,  the  upper  air  his  power  of  hear- 
ing, the  under  wind  gives  him  his  breath,  the  earth  gives 
him  his  taste,  feeling,  and  touch ;  the  hardness  of  bone 
that  man  has  comes  to  him  from  the  nature  of  stones. 
From  the  earth  grow  trees  and  grass ;  and  from  man's 
flesh,  nails  and  hair.  With  dumb  beasts  man  has  his  share 
of  things  which  he  likes  ill  or  well.  Of  these  things,  I 
have  heard  said,  Adam's  body  was  put  together.  For  this 
reason  that  you  have  heard,  man  is  called  the  lesser  world. 

1  See  Notes. 
3 


OF  MAN'S  SOUL 

But  you  have  not  yet  heard  the  story  of  how  man's  soul 
was  wrought.  A  ghostly  light  man  says  it  is  that  God  has 
made  in  His  likeness ;  as  print  of  a  seal  is  fixed  in  wax, 
so  man  has  God's  likeness.  He  has  wrought  him  as  friend 
and  companion,  since  nothing  is  so  dear  to  Him.  His 
Godhead  is  the  Trinity,  so  a  soul  has  properly  three  pow- 
ers :  the  perception  of  what  is,  was,  and  shall  be.  It  has 
pure  understanding  of  what  is  seen  and  is  unseen  ;  it  has, 
also,  wisdom  of  will  to  take  the  good  and  leave  the  evil.  All 
the  powers  that  may  be  dwell  in  that  Holy  Trinity.  That 
soul  which  is  cleansed  from  sin  has  all  virtues.  As  God, 
who  is  one  and  three,  may  by  no  kind  of  creature  be  un- 
derstood nor  overtaken,  but  He  overtakes  each  one,  so  the 
soul,  without  spot,  is  unseen,  though  it  has  sight  of  all 
things.  To  see  the  soul  you  have  no  power.  Now  have  I 
shown  you  how  two  things  hold  man  together  ;  —  the  soul, 
a  thing  spiritual,  and  the  body,  which  is  flesh  and  skin. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


DEBATE 

THE  AMOROUS  CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA 
THE  PLEADING  OF  THE  ROSE  AND  OF  THE  VIOLET 


THE  AMOROUS  CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS 
AND  FLORA1 

In  flowry  season  of  the  yeere, 
And  when  the  firmament  was  cleere, 
When  Tellus  hierbales  paynted  were 
With  issue  of  disparent 2  chere. 

When  th'usher  to  the  morne  did  rise, 
And  drive  the  darknes  from  the  skyes, 
Sleepe  gave  their  visuale  liberties 
To  Phillis  and  to  Floras  eyes. 

To  walke  these  Ladyes  liked  best, 
For  sleepe  rejects  the  wounded  brest, 
Who  joyntly  to  a  meade  addrest, 
Their  sportance  with  the  place  to  feast. 

Thus  made  they  amorous  accesse, 
Both  virgins  and  both  princesces  ; 
Fayre  Phillis  wore  a  liberal  tresse, 
But  Flora  hirs  in  curls  did  dresse. 

Nor  in  their  ornamentall  grace, 
Nor  in  behaviour  were  they  bace  ; 
Their  yeeres  and  mindes  in  egall 3  place 
Did  youth  and  his  effects  embrace. 

1  See  Notes.  2  varied.  8  equal. 

7 


8  DEBATE 

A  little  yet  unlike  they  proove, 
And  somewhat  hostilely  they  strove : 
A  scholler  Floras  minde  did  moove, 
But  Phillis  likt  a  souldiers  love. 

For  stature  and  fresh  bewties  flowrs, 
There  grew  no  difference  in  their  dowrs, 
All  thinges  were  free  to  both  their  powrs 
Without  and  in  their  courtly  bowrs. 

One  vow  they  made  religiously, 
And  were  of  one  societie  ; 
And  onely  was  their  impacie * 
The  forme  of  eithers  phantasie.2 

Now  did  a  timely  gentle  gale 
A  little  whisper  through  the  dale, 
Where  was  a  place  of  festivale, 
With  verdant  grasse  adorned  all. 

And  in  that  meade-prowd-making  grasse, 
A  river,  like  to  liquid  glasse, 
Did  in  such  sound-full  murmure  passe, 
That  with  the  same  it  wanton  was. 

Hard  by  this  brooke  a  pyne  had  seate, 
With  goodly  furniture  compleate, 
To  make  the  place  in  state  more  greate 
And  lessen  the  inflaming  heate. 

1  disagreement.  2  love. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA 

Which  was  with  leaves  so  bewtifide 
And  spread  his  brest  so  thicke  and  wide, 
That  all  the  sunnes  estranged  pride 
Sustainde  repulse  on  every  side. 

Fayre  Phillis  by  the  foorde  did  sit, 
But  Flora  far  remov'd  from  it, 
The  place  in  all  thinges  sweete  was  fit, 
Where  herbage  did  their  seates  admit. 

Thus  milde  they  opposite  were  set, 
And  coulde  not  their  affects  forget, 
Loves  arrows  and  their  bosoms  met, 
And  both  their  harts  did  passion  fret. 

Love  close  and  inward  shrowds  his  fires, 
And  in  faint  words  firme  sighs  enspires, 
Pale  tinctures  change  their  cheeks  attires, 
But  modest  shame  entoombs  their  ires. 

Phillis  did  Flora  sighing  take, 

And  Flora  did  requitale  make  : 

So  both  together  part  the  stake, 

Till  foorth  the  wound  and  sicknes  brak. 


In  this  chang'd  speech  they  long  time  staide, 
The  processe  all  on  Love  they  laide, 
Love  in  their  harts  their  lookes  bewraide, 
At  last  in  laughter  Phillis  saide  : 


IO  DEBATE 

"  Brave  souldier,"  sayd  she,  "  O  my  Paris, 
In  fight,  or  where  so  ere  he  tarries, 
The  souldiers  lyfe  lyfes  glory  carries, 
Onely  worth  Venus  household  quarries."  * 

While  she  hir  warr-friende  did  prefer, 
Flora  lookt  coye  and  laught  at  her ; 
And  did  this  adverse  speech  aver : 
"  Thou  shouldst  have  said,  I  love  a  begger. 

"  But  what  doth  he  my  hart  embraces  ? 
A  thing  create,  that  all  things  passes, 
Whom  nature  blest  with  all  hir  graces ; 
O  clerkes,  in  you  blisse  all  blisse  places." 

This  hard  speech  Phillis  hardly  takes, 
And  thus  she  Floras  pacience  crakes ; 
"  Thou  lov'st  a  man  pure  love  forsakes, 
That  God  his  godles  bellie  makes. 

"  Rise,  wretch,  from  this  grosse  extasie, 

A  clerke  sole  epicure  thinke  I. 

No  elegance  can  bewtifie 

A  shapeles  lump  of  gluttonie. 

"  His  hart  sweete  Cupids  tents  rejects, 
That  onely  meate  and  drinke  affects : 
O  Flora,  all  mens  intelects 
Know  souldiers  vows,  shun  those  respects. 

1  pleasure. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA        II 

"  Meere  helpes  for  neede  his  minde  suffiseth, 
Dull  sleepe  and  surfetts  he  despiseth, 
Loves  trump  his  temples  exerciseth, 
Cooradge  and  love,  his  life  compriseth. 

"  Who  with  like  band  our  loves  combineth  ? 
Even  Natures  law  thereat  repineth ; 
My  love  in  conquests  palme-wreths  shineth, 
Thine  feasts  deforms,  mine  fight  refineth." 

Flora  hir  modest  face  enrosed, 
Whose  second  smile  more  fayre  disclosed, 
At  length  with  mooving  voyce  she  losed 
What  art  in  her  storde  brest  reposed. 

"  Phillis,  thy  fill  of  speech  thou  hast, 
Thy  witt  with  pointed  wings  is  grast, 
Yet  urdgest  not  a  trueth  so  vast, 
That  hemlocks  lillies  have  surpast. 

"  Ease  loving  clerkes  thou  holdst  for  cleere, 

Servants  to  sloth  and  bellie  cheere ; 

So  envie  honor  would  enpheere,1 

But  give  me  eare,  He  give  thee  answere. 

"  So  much  enjoyes  this  love  of  myne, 
He  nere  envies,  or  hirs,  or  thyne ; 
Household  stuff e,  honny,  oyle,  corne,  wine, 
Coyne,  jewels,  plate,  serve  his  designe. 

1  describe. 


12  DEBATE 

"  Such  pleasing  store  have  clerks  by  lying, 
As  none  can  fayne  their  dignifying : 
There,  Love  clasps  his  glad  wings  in  flying, 
Love  ever  firme,  Love  never  dying. 

'  Loves  stings  in  him  are  still  sustained, 
Yet  is  my  clerke  nor  pinde  nor  pained : 
Joy  hath  no  part  in  him  restrained, 
To  whom  his  love  beares  thoughts  unfained. 

'  Palled,  and  leane,  is  thy  elected, 
Poore,  scarce  with  cloths  or  skin  contected, 
His  sinews  weake,  his  brest  dyjected, 
For  nothing  causde  maks  nought  effected. 

"  Approching  neede  is  Loves  meere  hell, 
Souldiers  want  gyfts  to  woo  loves  well : 
But  clerks  give  much,  and  still  heaps  swell, 
Their  rents  and  riches  so  excell." 


"  Right  well  thou  knowst "  (Phillis  replide) 
"  What  in  both  arts  and  lyves  abide, 
Likely,  and  clenly  thou  hast  lide  : 
But  thus  our  difference  is  not  tride. 

'  When  holy-day  the  whole  world  cheeres, 
A  clerke  lifes  modest  figure  beares  : 
His  crowne  is  heaven,  black  weeds  he  weares, 
And  showes  a  mind  halfe  dround  in  teares. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA        13 

"  None  is  so  poore  of  sence  or  eyne, 

To  whom  a  souldier  doth  not  shyne  : 

At  ease,  like  sprightles  beasts  lives  thyne, 

Helms,  and  barb'd  horse,  do  weare  out  myne. 


"  Mine  low  with  armes  makes  foe-towrs  ly, 
And  when  on  foote  he  fight  doth  try, 
While  his  fayre  squire  his  horse  holds  by, 
Mine  thinks  on  me,  and  then  they  dy. 

"  He  turns,  fight  past,  and  foes  inchased, 
And  lookes  on  me  with  helme  unlaced, 
Lifts  his  strong  lyms,  and  brest  strait  graced, 
And  saies,  kyss-blesse  me,  O  hart-placed." 

Flora  her  wrath  in  pants  did  spye, 
And  many  a  dart  at  hir  lets  flye  : 
1  Thou  canst  not  make  with  heaven-reacht  crye 
A  camel  pierce  a  needels  eye. 

'  False  goes  for  true,  for  honny,  gall, 
To  make  a  clerke  a  souldiers  thrall ; 
Doth  love  to  souldiers  coradge  call  ? 
No,  but  the  neede  they  toyle  withall. 

"  Fayre  Phillis,  would  thy  love  were  wise, 
No  more  the  trueth  to  contrarise ! 
Hunger  and  thirst  bow  souldiers  thies, 
In  which  Deaths  path  and  Plutos  lies. 


14  DEBATE 

"  Sharpe  is  the  wasting  bane  of  warre 
The  lot  is  hard,  and  strayneth  farre  : 
The  lyfe  is  stooping,  doubts  doth  jarre, 
To  get  such  things  as  needefull  are. 

"  Knewst  thou  the  case,  thou  wouldst  not  say, 
Shaven  haire  sham'd  clerks,  or  black  aray  : 
Worne  higher  honors  to  display, 
And  that  all  states  they  oversway. 

"  All  things  should  to  my  clerke  encline, 
Whose  crowne  sustains  th'  impereal  signe ; 
He  rules  and  payes  such  friendes  as  thine, 
And  lay  must  stoope  to  men  divine. 

"  Thou  sayst  that  sloth  a  clerke  disguiseth, 
Who  I  confesse  base  workes  despiseth  : 
But  when  from  cares  his  free  minde  riseth, 
Heavens  course  and  Naturs  he  compriseth. 

"Mine  purple  decks,  thine  maile  bedighteth, 
Thine  lives  in  war,  mine  peace  delighteth, 
Olde  acts  of  princes  he  resighteth, 
All  of  his  friend  thinks,  seeks,  and  wrighteth. 

"  What  Venus  can,  or  Loves  wingd  lord, 
First  knowes  my  clerke,  and  brings  me  word : 
Musicke  in  cares  doth  mine  afford, 
Thine  joyes  in  rapine  and  the  sword." 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA        15 

Here  speech  and  strife  had  both  their  ending, 
Phillis  askt  judgment,  all  suspending  : 
Much  stir  they  made,  yet  ceast  contending ; 
And  sought  a  judge  in  homewards  wending. 

With  countnances  that  egale 1  beene, 
With  egale  majestie  beseene  : 
With  egale  voyce,  and  egale  spleene, 
These  virgins  ward  uppon  the  greene. 

Phillis  a  white  robe  bewtifide, 
Flora  wore  one  of  two  hews  dide : 
Phillis  upon  a  mule  did  ride, 
Flora  did  back  a  horse  of  pride. 

The  mule  was  that  which  being  create, 
Neptune  did  feede,  and  subjugate  : 
Which  after  fayre  Adonis  fate, 
He  Venus  sent  to  cheere  hir  state. 

This,  she  the  queene  of  Iberine, 
Phillis  fayre  mother  did  resigne, 
Since  she  was  given  to  workes  divine, 
Whence  Phillis  had  the  mule  in  fine. 

Who  of  the  trappings  asks,  and  bit, 
The  mule  (though  silver)  champing  it : 
Know  all  things  were  so  richly  fit, 
As  Neptunes  honor  might  admit. 


equal. 


16  DEBATE 

Then  Phillis  no  decorid  wanted, 
But  rich  and  bewtious,  all  eyes  daunted : 
Nor  Floras  vertue  lesse  enchaunted, 
Who  on  a  welthy  palfrey  vaunted. 

Tamde  with  his  raines,  won  heaven  for  lightnes, 

Exceeding  fayre,  and  full  of  wightnes,1 

His  brest  art  dectt  with  divers  brightnes, 

For  jeate  blacke  mixt  with  swans  pure  whightnes. 

Young  and  in  dainty  shape  dygested, 
His  lookes  with  pride,  not  rage,  invested : 
His  mayne  thin  haird,  his  neck  high  crested, 
Small  eare,  short  head,  and  burly  brested. 

His  brode  backe  stoopt  to  this  clerks-loved, 
Which  with  hir  pressure  nought  was  moved  : 
Strait  legd,  large  thighd,  and  hollow  hoved, 
All  Natures  skill  in  him  was  proved. 

An  ivorie  seate  on  him  had  place, 
A  hoope  of  golde  did  it  imbrace, 
Graven  :  and  the  poitrell 2  did  enchace 
A  stone  that  star-like  gave  it  grace. 

Inscription  there  allurde  the  eye, 
With  many  a  wondrous  misterie  : 
Of  ancient  thinges  made  noveltie, 
That  never  man  did  yet  descrie. 

1  quickness.  2  breastplate. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA        17 

The  God  of  Rhetoriques  nuptiall  bowre, 
Adornd  with  every  heavenly  powre, 
The  contract,  and  the  mariage  howre, 
And  all  the  most  unmeasurd  dowre. 

No  place  was  there  that  figurd  nought, 
That  could  through  all  the  world  be  sought : 
But  more  excesse  of  mervails  wrought, 
Then  might  inceede 1  a  humane  thought. 

The  skyll  of  Mulciber  alone 

Engrav'd  that  admirable  throne  : 

Who  looking  stedfastly  thereon, 

Scarse  thought  his  hand  such  art  had  shone. 

The  trappings  wrought  he  not  with  ease, 
But  all  his  payne  employde  to  please  : 
And  left,  to  go  in  hand  with  these, 
The  tardge  of  great  Aeacides.2 

A  styrrop  for  hir  feete  to  presse, 
And  bridle-bosses  he  did  dresse, 
And  added  rains  in  worths  excesse, 
Of  his  sweete  spowses  goulden  tresse. 

Thus  on  their  famouse  cavalrye, 
These  prince-borne  damzels  seemd  to  flye  : 
Their  soft  young  cheekebales  to  the  eye 
Are  of  the  fresh  vermilion  dye. 

1  comprehend.  2  Achilles. 


1 8  DEBATE 

So  lillies  out  of  scarlet  peere, 

So  roses  of  the  vernall  yeere, 

So  shoote  two  wanton  stairs  y-feere ' 

From  the  eternall  burning  spheere. 

The  child-gods  gracefull  paradise, 
They  joyntly  purpose  to  in  vise  : 2 
And  lovely  emulations  rise, 
In  note  of  one  anothers  guise. 

Phillis  to  Flora,  laughter  led, 
And  Flora  Phillis  answered  : 
A  merlin  Phillis  managed, 
A  sparhawlke  Flora  caried. 

In  little  tyme  these  ladyes  founde 
A  grove  with  every  pleasure  crounde  : 
At  whose  sweete  entrie  did  resounde 
A  foorde  that  flowrd  that  holy  grounde. 

From  thence  the  sweete-breathd  winds  convay 

Odors  from  every  mirtle  spray  : 

And  other  flowrs,  to  whose  aray 

A  hundred  harpes  and  timbrels  play. 

All  pleasurs  studie  can  invent, 
The  dames  eares  instantly  present : 
Voyces  in  all  sorts  different, 
The  foure  parts,  and  the  diapent.3 

1  together.  2  see.  8  interval  of  a  fifth. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA        19 

Two  tunes  that  from  those  voyces  flie, 
With  admirable  harmonie : 
The  tymbrell,  harpe,  and  psalterie, 
Rejoyce  in  rapting  symphonic 

There  did  the  vials  voyce  abounde, 
In  musicke  angel-like  profounde  : 
There  did  the  phife  dispredden  rounde 
His  songe  in  many  a  variant  sounde. 

All  birdes  with  tunefull  bosoms  sing, 
The  blackbird  makes  the  woods  to  ring : 
The  thrush,  the  jay,  and  she 1  in  spring 
Rues  the  past  rape  of  Thraces  king. 

Their  shrill  notes  to  the  musicke  plying, 
Then  all  the  different  flowrs  descrying, 
The  odors  in  abundance  flying, 
Prov  'd  it  the  bowre  of  Loves  soft-lying. 

The  virgins  something  entered  here, 
And  sprinckled  with  a  little  feare, 
Their  harts  before  that  helde  Love  deare, 
In  Cupids  flames  encreased  were. 

And  while  each  winged  forester 
Their  proper  rumors2  did  prefer, 
Each  virgins  minde  made  waight  on  her 
Applauses  apt  and  singuler. 

1  nightingale.  2  music. 


20  DEBATE 

Deathles  were  he  coulde  there  repose, 
Each  path  his  spycie  odor  stroes  : 
Of  mirh  and  synamon  there  groes, 
And  of  our  blessed  Ladyes  rose. 

Each  tree  hath  there  his  severall  blisse, 
In  fruites  that  never  season  misse  : 
Men  may  conceave  how  sweete  Love  is, 
By  that  celestiall  court  of  his. 

The  dauncing  companies  they  see 
Of  young  men  and  of  maydens  free  ; 
Whose  bodyes  are  as  bright  in  blee,1 
As  Starrs  illustrate  bodyes  bee. 

In  which  so  mervaylous  a  guyse 

Of  unexpected  novelties, 

These  virgins  bosoms  through  their  eyes 

Were  daunted  with  a  quicke  surprise. 

Who  stay  their  royall  steads  outright, 
And  almost  from  their  seates  alight : 
Forgetting  their  endevors  quight, 
With  that  proud  rumors  sweete  affright. 

But  when  sad  Philomene  did  straine 
Her  rape-full-raving  brest  againe, 
These  ladyes  hearing  hir  complaine, 
Were  reinflamd  in  every  vaine. 

i  color. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA       21 

About  the  center  of  the  spring, 
A  secret  place  is  where  they  sing, 
And  use  their  supreme  worshypping, 
Of  Loves  neare-darting  fiery  king. 

There  many  a  two-shapt  companie, 

Of  faunes,  nimphes,  satyres,  meete  and  plie 

The  tymbrell  and  the  psalterie, 

Before  Loves  sacred  majestic 

There  beare  they  goblets  bigg  with  wine, 
And  coronets  of  flowrs  combine  : 
There  nimphs  and  fauns  demy-divine, 
Doth  Bacchus  teach  to  foote  it  fine. 

Who  keepe  true  measure  with  their  feete, 
That  to  the  instruments  do  fleete  : 
But  olde  Silenus  playes  not  sweete 
In  consort,  but  indents  the  streete.1 

The  spring-sleepe  did  his  temples  lode, 
As  on  a  long-eard  asse  he  rode  : 
Laughters  excesse,  to  see  him  nod, 
Dissolv'd  the  bosome  of  the  God. 

Fresh  cups  he  ever  cals  uppon, 
In  sounds  of  imperfection, 
With  age  and  Bacchus  overgon, 
They  stop  his  voyces  organon. 

1  staggers. 


22  DEBATE 

Amongst  this  gamesome  crew  is  seene, 
The  issue  of  the  Cyprian  Queene, 
Whose  head  and  shoulders  fethered  beene, 
And  as  the  Starrs  his  countnance  sheene. 


In  his  left  hand  his  bow  he  bare, 

And  by  his  side  his  quiver  ware : 

In  powre  he  sits  past  all  compare, 

And  with  his  flames  the  worlde  doth  dare. 

A  scepter  in  his  hand  he  hild, 

With  Chloris  native  flowrs  untild, 

And  nectars  deathles  odors  stild, 

From  his  bright  lookes  the  sunne  did  guild. 

The  triple  Graces  there  assist, 
Supporting  with  their  brests  commist, 
And  knees  that  Tellus  bosome  kist, 
The  challice  of  this  amorist. 

These  ladyes  now  approched  neare, 
And  worshipped  exempt  from  feare 
Loves  god  :  who  was  environd  there 
With  youth,  that  honord  stiles  did  beare. 

Their  joy  is  superexcellent, 
To  see  a  court  so  confluent : 
Whom  Cupid,  seeing  their  intent, 
Doth  with  his  greeting  intervent. 


CONTENTION  OF  PHILLIS  AND  FLORA       23 

He  askes  the  cause  for  which  they  came : 
They  confidently  tell  the  same  : 
And  he  gives  prayse  to  eyther  dame, 
That  durst  so  great  a  warre  proclame. 

To  both  he  spake  to  make  some  pause, 
Untyll  their  honorable  cause, 
Profoundly  wayde  in  every  clause, 
Might  be  explande  with  all  applause. 

He  was  a  God  which  well  they  know, 
Rehearsall  needes  it  not  bestow  : 
They  light  and  rest,  and  playnely  show, 
Where  Love  strives,  Love  wil  maister  grow. 

Love  lawes  and  judges  hath  in  fee,1 
Nature  and  use  his  judges  bee  : 
To  whom  his  whole  courts  censures  flee, 
Since  past,  and  things  to  come,  they  see. 

These  do  the  hart  of  justice  trie, 
And  show  the  courts  severitie  : 
In  judgment,  and  strong  customs  eye, 
The  clerke  is  fitst  for  venerie.2 

Gainst  which  the  queenes  but  little  strove, 
Since  Loves  high  voyce  did  it  approve : 
So  both  to  their  abodes  remove : 
But  as  at  first,  rest  firm  in  Love. 

Translated  by  George  Chapman  (?) 
1  in  6ef.  2  love. 


24  DEBATE 

THE  PLEADING  OF  THE  ROSE  AND  OF 
THE  VIOLET1 

In  the  presence  of  Imagination,  before  whom  in  due 
course  of  law  actions  are  brought,  an  argument  was  one 
day  commenced  between  the  Rose  and  the  Violet.  The 
matter,  of  which  I  treat,  was  most  wisely  conducted.  To 
set  forth  fully  points,  process,  articles,  and  case,  the  advo- 
cate of  the  Rose  appeared  first  and  began  as  follows : 

'  Violet !  I  am  here  to  propound  a  question  in  behalf 
of  my  lady,  lovely  Rose ;  I  hereby  announce  to  you,  and 
intend  likewise  to  proclaim  and  sustain  in  all  courts  of 
the  land,  that  Rose  is  of  greater  worth,  more  desired,  and 
more  dearly  esteemed  than  you  are.  That  is  just,  for  in- 
deed she  adorns  the  season  with  her  color,  more  delicate 
than  purple  and  crimson,  and  with  her  sweet  fragrance. 
She  lasts  much  longer  in  her  beauty  than  do  you,  Violet ; 
and,  red  or  white,  she  springs  in  the  pleasant  month  of 
May  to  draw  all  lovers  out  of  their  sadness.  Then  do  ladies 
and  youths,  lords,  bachelors  and  maidens  gather  her  flowers, 
some  making  chaplets  of  them  and  others  weaving  garlands 
to  adorn  themselves." 

At  this  point,  the  advocate  of  the  Violet,  who  was  very 
old,  could  no  longer  keep  silent,  and  broke  in : 

"  O  God  !  If  I  did  not  know  how  to  speak,  I  might 
have  to  withdraw  from  this  argument,  but,  if  it  please  God, 
I  shall  speak,  and  I  shall  support  the  cause  of  Violet 
against  Rose.  Sir  Advocate,  I  say  and  affirm,  in  spite  of 
your  speech,  that  Violet  is  more  joyfully  welcomed,  more 
beloved,  and  more  desired  than  Rose.    Here  is  the  cause ; 

1  See  Notes. 


ROSE  AND  VIOLET  25 

now  listen  to  the  truth.  When  a  winter  full  of  frost  and 
chill  shall  have  put  to  rout,  by  its  prolonged  stay,  trees 
and  fruits,  leaves  and  flowers,  then  men  and  women  and 
children  long  for  bright  days,  and  wish  the  springtime  to 
come  swiftly,  when  they  will  hear  the  singing  of  larks  and 
will  find  violets  in  orchards,  gardens,  and  every  pretty 
close.  There  youths  and  maidens  gather  them  and  make 
gay  chaplets,  and  many  put  them  under  their  pillows 
in  token  of  delight  and  pleasure.  And  when  this  sweet 
and  fresh  season  of  spring  comes  anew,  you  may  see  many 
people  fastening  violets  in  fresh  green  sprays  of  goose- 
berry, and  arranging  them  so  as  to  set  off  their  beauty 
and  fragrance.  To  speak  truly,  Sir  Advocate,  one  cannot 
do  them  too  much  honor.  Now,  I  pray  you,  sit  down  ;  for 
I  would  rest  a  little.  But  I  will  take  up  the  argument  again, 
if,  indeed,  there  be  any  further  need  of  my  services." 

Each  of  the  advocates  seated  himself,  and  Imagination  set 
a  day  for  their  return,  for  she  wished  to  hear  them  further. 

Here  follotvs  how  the  Advocate  of  the  Rose  sets 
forth  her  Cause 

Now  they  have  come  to  the  appointed  day ;  may  it 
dawn  happily,  for  I  would  hear  most  gladly  the  order  of 
their  discourse.  The  advocate  of  the  Rose  spoke  first,  for 
he  was  well  versed  in  speaking,  and  he  addressed  them 
as  follows : 

'  Before  Imagination,  who  is  my  sovereign  lady,  I  here 
make  protest  and  vigorous  complaint  against  the  grievous 
charges  with  which  Violet  oppresses  us.  When  she  wishes 
to  detract  from  the  power  of  the   Rose,  white  and  red, 


26  DEBATE 

s 
v 

she  shows  little  discrimination,  and  her  advocate  likewise, 
for  as  black  differs  from  white  so  it  is  clear  the  Violet 
differs  from  the  Rose.  I  do  not  know  who  is  counselling 
this  advocate,  but  certainly  he  is  not  endowed  with  good 
judgment ;  or  if  he  is,  it  does  not  appear  in  this  case. 
Now,  to  silence  him  completely  I  will  give  some  details, 
that  he  may  take  counsel  of  them.  First  of  all,  I  will 
compare  the  red  rose,  by  figure,  to  the  sun,  for  the  round 
sun,  when  we  see  it  rising  at  morning  and  setting  at  night, 
is  in  color  not  at  all  variegated,  but  sanguine  indeed,  and 
deep  red  as  the  red  rose.  There  are  yet  further  considera- 
tions why  one  should  greatly  honor  the  Rose.  You  know 
that  there  are  two  kinds  of  grapes,  from  which  are  made 
white  wine  and  red,  and  with  these  wines  the  holy  sacra- 
ment is  solemnly  celebrated.  I  choose  the  white  rose  to 
stand  for  the  white  wine,  and  for  red  wine  the  red  rose. 
Indeed,  they  still  cry  in  the  streets,  '  Come  buy  the  good 
wine  Rosette.'  Roses,  white  and  red,  have  mysterious  and 
agreeable  virtue,  for  from  them  is  made  a  liquid,  called 
rose  water,  that  is  good  for  healthy  folk,  and  necessary  for 
those  that  are  ill,  because  it  assuages  strong  fevers.  It  is 
refreshing  to  the  face,  and  to  the  mouth  and  the  hands. 
Many,  indeed,  wish  their  pillows,  be  it  for  sleeping  or 
waking,  may  be  scented  with  the  fragrance  of  the  Rose. 
Consider  where  the  Rose  dwells.  I  call  the  rose-bush  her 
house.  God  set  her  there,  in  all  reason,  not  shut  up  in  a 
tower,  but  enclosed  about  with  sharp  thorns  so  that  the 
young  goats  that  love  to  pasture  on  violets  and  nibble  the 
leaves  and  tender  shoots  shall  not  touch  roses  nor  buds." 
With  this,  the  advocate  for  the  Rose  was  silent,  having 
reviewed  wisely  and  well,  it  seemed,  the  case  of  the  Rose, 


ROSE  AND  VIOLET  27 

red  and  white.  The  court  adjourned  for  a  little,  until  there 
was  great  impatience  to  know  if  the  advocate  of  the  Violet, 
having  heard  the  case  for  lovely  Rose,  would  return  to 
the  debate.  Truly,  you  shall  hear  how  he  responded  with 
much  wisdom.  But  I  must  write  down  his  replies  before 
I  can  recite  them. 


Here  follozvs  how  the  Advocate  of  the  Violet 
sustains  her  Cause 

"  O  Advocate  for  Violet,  come  forward,  for  they  bring 
points  of  opposition  against  you,"  said  Imagination,  "  and 
you  will  have  to  make  reply  to  them,  unless  I  am  to  dismiss 
the  case." 

The  advocate  answered,  "  Lady,  I  am  all  ready,  by  my 
soul,  to  reply,  and  to  do  my  duty,  and  to  show  that  I  have 
spoken  truth.  First  of  all,  I  state,  in  plain  prose,  that  I 
do  not  doubt  the  Rose  may  be  beautiful  and  good  and 
wise  and  may  have  many  ways  and  uses  that  are  much  to 
be  commended ;  but  I  should  like  to  ask  her  advocate  if 
his  figure  of  the  sun  is  acceptable  or  quite  truthful.  The 
Rose  is  cool  and  moist,  the  sun  hot ;  now,  in  this  point, 
his  argument  is  false.  However,  let  that  count  for  what  it 
may.  My  sword  is  as  sharpened  for  all  thrusts  as  his.  He 
is  foolish  who  evades  his  opponent  when  he  can  attack 
him.  I  have  both  occasion  and  motive  for  challenging 
him,  and  so  I  do  it.  He  has  just  now  compared  the  Rose 
to  the  sun ;  I  assure  him  that  I  will  not,  by  a  still  worse 
figure,  compare  violets  to  the  stars  or  the  planets.  I  will 
not  strain  his  comparison  farther,  for  that  would  be  foolish. 
But  I  will  name  them  daughters  of  the  round  firmament, 


28  DEBATE 

for  they  have  her  own  color,  without  white,  black,  red,  or 
green.  When  clouds  came  down  from  the  heavens,  the 
earth  drank  in  their  moisture  and  conceived  violets,  so  she 
holds  them  in  deep  affection.  Blue  signifies  steadfastness ; 
he  or  she  who  wears  it,  remember,  must  have  a  heart 
always  firm  and  steadfast  and  strengthened.  Violets  are 
flowers  of  good  worth,  fair  to  see  and  to  wear.  When 
ladies  and  maidens  have  fine  gowns  or  rich  hangings  for 
their  beds,  if  they  scent  them  with  violets  people  will  say, 
'This  robe  is  sweet,'  and  will  enjoy  the  odor.  Violets,  dear 
masters,  have  further  power  and  virtue,  which  strengthens 
my  argument  and  overthrows  all  your  specious  comments. 

"  Take  violets  and  roses,  and,  to  test  their  power,  throw 
them  into  brandy,  to  see  what  will  happen  and  what  will 
become  of  their  odor.  The  brandy,  which  is  powerful,  will 
take  away  substance  and  vigor  from  the  lovely  Rose,  while 
the  Violet  will  persist  in  its  fragrance  ;  this  is  certain.  So 
I  hold  her,  and  with  reason,  to  be  of  far  greater  impor- 
tance and  of  much  nobler  quality  than  the  Rose.  Further- 
more, there  is  made  from  violets  a  good  lotion  which  gives 
comfort  to  sick  people,  and  from  the  plants  and  roots  are 
made  several  medicines,  but  you  cannot  make  anything 
out  of  a  rose-bush,  except  a  fire  in  winter.  And  if  goats  or 
sheep  do  browse  on  violets,  I  am  sure  that  the  milk  they 
give  does  much  good  to  the  children  who  drink  it." 

Then  Master  Papin,  the  advocate  of  the  Rose,  stood  up 
and  wished  to  say  something,  but  Imagination  spoke  before 
him,  and  said,  "  Where  are  you  going,  Sir  Advocate  ?  You 
weary  us  with  so  much  talking.  Who  wants  to  listen  to 
your  speeches  ?  They  would  fill  four  rolls.  We  must  stop 
your  pleading,  for  we  are  compelled  to  hear  other  cases." 


ROSE  AND  VIOLET  29 

"  Lady,"  said  the  advocate,  "  you  ought  to  hear  all  suits 
out ;  for  that  is  your  court  open.  Do  not  be  so  hasty ; 
you  complain  of  the  debate  too  soon.  Pronounce  your 
just  decision  on  our  case." 

Imagination,  at  these  words,  declared  that  she  would 
hear  no  more,  nor  would  she  give  a  decision. 

"  Who  will  then  ?   Tell  us  that,  Lady  !  " 

'  Willingly,"  she  replied  ;  "  you  have  elsewhere  a  court 
of  appeal  for  judging  right  and  wrong,  which  is  higher 
than  mine." 

"  And  where  is  it  ?  Lead  us  to  it,  or  direct  us,  and  we 
will  go  there." 

Imagination  replied,  "  Good  sir  Advocate,  the  noble  and 
high  Fleur-de-lys,  whom  men  should  hold  in  dear  esteem, 
has  sovereignty,  has  she  not,  over  the  Rose  and  all  other 
flowers  ?  Indeed  she  has  and  always  has  had  and  shall 
have,  as  is  just ;  for  as  the  lion  is  king  of  beasts  and  the 
eagle  king  of  birds,  so,  I  assure  you,  is  the  Fleur-de-lys  sov- 
ereign lady  over  all  flowers,  and  most  exalted.  Therefore 
go  to  her  court,  —  happy  is  he  who  has  recourse  to  it,  — 
I  cannot  send  you  to  a  better  place  to  plead  your  cause. 
The  way  is  not  very  long ;  say  that  I  sent  you  there  for 
counsel,  that  they  may  help  you." 

"  Ah,  dear  lady,  and  where  does  the  Fleur-de-lys  live  ? 
Since  this  is  so,  we  will  go  there,  if  it  please  you." 

She  responds,  without  hesitation,  "  In  the  noble  realm 
of  France.  There  you  will  find  with  all  delight  the  noble 
and  high  Fleur-de-lys  surrounded  in  state  by  a  fair  and 
goodly  company :  Hardihood,  Youth,  Wisdom,  Honor, 
and  Largesse,  by  whom  you  will  be  welcomed  gladly  and 
advised  with  counsel  gracious  and  wise.    For  the  King, 


30  DEBATE 

Orleans  and  Bourbon,  Berry,  Bourgoyne,  Eu,  and  La 
Marche  will  not  break  their  promise  to  study  wisely,  to 
consider  loyally,  and  to  examine  your  dispute,  which  will 
be  pleasing  to  them.  And  when  they  have  heard  it,  I  be- 
lieve that  they  will  answer  so  wisely  and  so  to  the  point 
that  there  will  never  be  more  argument  between  Rose  and 
Violet  such  as  this  plea  deals  with.  And  if,  through  any 
difficulty  in  the  affair,  it  should  be  necessary  to  have  coun- 
sel, you  know  there  are  still  the  Marguerites,  small  and 
beautiful  flowers,  whom  it  is  a  pleasure  to  meet  again  at 
all  seasons,  summer  and  winter,  and  there  are  several  other 
noble  flowers,  with  which  her  court  is  much  adorned,  who 
may  give  her  faithful  counsel.  Go  there,  I  advise  you." 
"  Lady,"  said  he,  "  that  is  our  purpose."    With  that  the 

hearing  was  closed. 

Translated  by  Marion  E.  Markley 


VISION 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK1 

Saint  Patrick  felt  such  pity  for  the  Irish  folk,  who  lived 
in  deadly  sin  and  false  belief,  that  he  constantly  besought 
them  to  turn  to  God  and  obey  His  law,  but  they  were  so 
full  of  wickedness  that  they  scorned  every  word  he  spoke. 
They  all  said  that  they  would  not  repent  nor  cease  from 
evil  unless  he  would  undertake  the  adventure  of  going 
down  into  hell  to  bring  them  back  tidings  of  the  pain  and 
woe  which  souls  suffer  there  evermore.  The  saint  was 
sorely  dismayed  upon  hearing  this,  and,  often,  with  fasting 
and  prayer,  he  begged  Jesus  Christ  to  grant  him  the  grace 
to  find  a  way  by  which  he  might  bring  the  people  of  Ire- 
land out  of  bondage  to  the  fiend,  and  lead  them  to  believe 
in  God  Omnipotent. 

Once,  while  he  was  in  holy  church,  praying  thus,  he 
fell  asleep  before  the  altar,  and  began  to  dream  of  heaven's 
bliss  ;  he  thought  that  Jesus  came  to  him  and  gave  him  a 
book  such  as  no  clerk  can  ever  write,  telling  all  manner  of 
good  tidings  of  heaven  and  earth  and  hell,  and  of  God's 
mystery.  Into  his  hand  God  put  a  fair  staff,  which  to  this 
day  is  called,  in  Ireland,  God's  staff.  And  God  led  him 
straightway  thence  into  a  great  desert  where  was  a  secret 
opening,  grisly  to  see.  Round  it  was,  and  black;  in  all 
the  world  it  has  no  mate.  When  Saint  Patrick  saw  that 
sight  he  was  greatly  troubled  in  his  sleep,  but  God  revealed 
to  him  that  if  a  man  who  had  sinned  against  the  holy  law 
and  yet  truly  repented  should  do  penance  in  this  hole,  a 

1  See  Notes. 
33 


34  VISION 

day  and  a  night,  his  sins  would  be  forgiven  him.  If  the 
man  were  of  good  faith,  steadfast  in  belief,  he  should  see 
the  strong  pains  of  those  who  have  sinned  in  this  world, 
but  should  not  suffer  himself,  and  finally,  he  should  be- 
hold the  joy  that  lasts  for  aye  in  paradise.  Then  Jesus  with- 
drew his  gracious  countenance  and  left  Patrick  there  alone. 
When  the  saint  awoke  he  found  God's  tokens,  and,  tak- 
ing them  in  his  hand,  he  knelt  to  thank  Jesus  Christ  for 
revealing  to  him  how  he  might  turn  the  Irish  folk  to 
amendment.  On  that  spot,  without  delay,  he  had  a  fair 
abbey  built,  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  our  Lady.  The  ab- 
bey had  no  equal  anywhere ;  solace  and  glee  and  rejoicing 
abounded  for  poor  and  for  rich.  White  canons  regular 
were  placed  there  to  serve  God  early  and  late  and  to  be 
holy  men.  The  book  and  the  staff  God  gave  him  men  may 
still  see.  In  the  east  end  of  the  abbey  is  that  grisly  hole, 
with  a  good  stone  wall  all  around  it,  and  a  gate  with  lock 
and  key.  That  very  spot  is  called  the  right  entrance  to 
Patrick's  Purgatory,  for  in  the  times  when  this  happened 
many  a  man  went  down  to  hell,  as  the  story  tells  us,  and 
suffered  pain  for  his  trespasses,  and  then  returned  again, 
through  God's  grace.  They  all  said,  when  they  had  come 
out,  that  they  had  indeed  seen  the  very  pains  of  hell  and 
also  the  joys  of  angels  singing  to  God  and  to  his  hosts. 
That  is  the  joy  of  paradise :  Jesus  bring  us  thither ! 
When  the  people  of  Ireland  began  to  understand  the  joys 
described  by  Saint  Patrick,  they  all  came  to  him  and  were 
christened  at  the  font  and  forsook  their  misdeeds.  So 
they  became  good  Christians  through  knowledge  of  God 
and  the  prayers  of  Saint  Patrick.  Now  hearken,  and  I 
will  tell  you  about  another  thing,  if  you  care  to  hear  it. 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        35 

In  the  days  of  Stephen,  a  king  who  ruled  England 
wisely,  there  was  in  Northumberland  a  knight  who  was  a 
brave  and  valiant  man.  He  was  born  in  that  country,  and 
was  called  Owain.  He  knew  much  about  battle,  and  he 
was  very  sinful  towards  his  Creator.  One  day,  bethinking 
himself  of  his  sins,  he  was  filled  with  dread,  and  he  de- 
termined, through  God's  grace,  to  be  shriven  and  sin  no 
more.  By  chance,  he  came  to  the  Bishop  of  Ireland,  in 
that  abbey  where  the  hole  of  penance  was,  and  he  con- 
fessed and  prayed  that  a  sore  penance  be  laid  upon  him, 
for  never  again,  he  said,  would  he  sin.  The  bishop  was 
glad  of  this  promise,  and,  after  rebuking  Owain  sharply 
for  his  evil  deeds,  said  that  he  must  undertake  many  hard 
tasks  of  penance.  The  knight  answered,  "  Gladly  will  I 
do  what  God  ordains,  though  it  be  to  go  into  Patrick's 
Purgatory."  The  bishop,  describing  to  him  the  torments 
of  the  place,  said,  "  Nay,  friend  Owain,  that  way  thou 
shalt  not  go.  Take  some  other  penance  in  expiation  of 
thy  sins."  However,  for  all  the  bishop  could  say  the 
knight  would  not  yield,  so  the  bishop  led  him  into  the 
holy  church  and  taught  him  the  law  of  God. 

Fifteen  days  he  spent  in  affliction,  in  fasting,  and  in 
prayer,  and  then  the  prior,  at  the  head  of  a  procession 
with  cross  and  banner,  brought  him  to  the  hole.  The 
prior  said,  "  Knight  Owain,  here  is  thy  way,  go  right  for- 
ward ;  when  thou  hast  proceeded  a  long  distance  and  hast 
lost  the  light  of  day,  still  keep  directly  north.  Thou  shalt 
go  thus  under  the  earth,  and  then,  very  soon,  thou  wilt 
find  a  great  field  where  there  is  a  hall  of  stone,  unlike  any 
other  in  the  world.  Some  light  there  is,  but  no  more  than 
appears  when  the  sun  goes  to  ground  in  winter.    Into  that 


2,6  VISION 

hall  thou  shalt  go  and  stay  until  folk  come  to  solace  thee. 
Thirteen 1  men  will  appear,  all  Serjeants  of  God,  and  they 
will  counsel  thee  about  thy  course  through  purgatory." 

Then  the  prior  and  the  convent  commended  him  to  God 
and  went  forth,  shutting  the  gate.  The  knight  took  the 
way  leading  to  the  field  where  was  the  hall  of  stone.  The 
hall  was  the  work  of  no  earthly  workman ;  it  was  cleverly 
made  in  fashion  of  a  cloister,  with  pillars  on  each  side. 
When  the  knight  had  stood  a  long  time,  marvelling,  he 
entered.  Soon,  thirteen  wise  men  appeared,  all  dressed  in 
white  habits  and  with  their  heads  newly  tonsured.  Their 
leader,  advancing,  saluted  the  knight,  and  then  sat  down 
to  instruct  him  :  "  I  shall  counsel  thee,  dear  brother,  as  I 
have  many  another  who  has  passed  this  way,  to  be  of  good 
faith,  certain,  and  without  doubt,  for  thou  wilt  see,  when 
we  have  departed,  a  thousand  fiends  and  more  to  lead 
thee  to  torment ;  take  note  that  if  thou  dost  obey  them 
in  the  slightest  thing,  thy  soul  will  be  lost.  Keep  God  in 
thy  heart,  and  think  how  He  suffered  from  His  wounds. 
Unless  thou  dost  as  I  tell  thee,  thou  wilt  go  to  hell,  body 
and  soul,  and  be  lost  eternally.  If  thou  dost  speak  God's 
high  name,  they  cannot  harm  thee."  When  he  had  thus 
counselled  the  knight,  the  leader  and  his  fellows  com- 
mended him  to  God,  and  with  benign  looks  went  forth 
from  the  hall. 

Owain,  left  there  in  dread,  began  to  lament  and  call 
upon  God.  Soon  he  heard  a  piteous  cry ;  he  could  not 
have  been  more  frightened  if  the  heaven  had  fallen.  When 
he  had  recovered  from  the  fear  caused  by  that  cry,  there 
came  flocking  in  a  crowd  of  fiends,  fifty  score  or  more, 

1  Fifteen,  in  other  versions. 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        37 

loathsome  things  altogether.  Crowding  around  the  knight 
they  laughed  him  to  scorn,  saying  that  he  had  come  in 
flesh  and  skin  to  win  the  joys  of  hell  forever.  The  master 
fiend,  falling  upon  his  knees,  said,  "  Welcome,  Owain ; 
thou  art  come  to  suffer  penance  for  thy  sins,  but  thou 
wilt  get  no  benefit,  for  thou  shalt  have  torments,  hard 
and  strong  and  tough  enough  because  of  thy  deadly  sins. 
Never  hadst  thou  more  mischance  than  thou  shalt  have 
in  our  dance  when  we  begin  our  sport.  However,  if  thou 
wilt  do  our  bidding,  since  thou  art  dear  to  us,  our  whole 
company  will  bring  thee  back  with  tender  love  to  the  spot 
where  thou  didst  leave  the  prior.  If  thou  dost  refuse,  we 
shall  prove  to  thee  that  thou  hast  served  us  many  a  year 
in  pride  and  luxury,  and  all  our  company  will  thrust  their 
hooks  at  thee."  Owain  answered,  "  I  forsake  your  counsel, 
and  will  endure  my  penance."  When  the  fiends  heard  this, 
they  made  a  great  fire  in  the  hall,  and  binding  him  fast, 
feet  and  hands,  they  cast  him  into  the  midst  of  it.  He 
called  upon  our  Lord,  and  at  once  the  fire  vanished ;  no 
coal  nor  spark  was  left,  through  the  grace  of  God  Almighty. 
As  soon  as  the  knight  saw  this  he  grew  bolder,  realizing 
that  it  was  the  treachery  of  the  fiends  to  try  his  heart. 

Then  the  devils  went  out  of  the  hall,  leading  the  knight 
with  them  to  a  strange  place,  where  nothing  good  entered, 
only  hunger,  thirst,  and  cold.  He  could  see  no  tree,  could 
hear  no  sound  of  wind,  yet  a  cold  blast  blew  that  pierced 
his  side.  At  last  the  fiends  brought  him  to  a  valley  where 
the  knight  thought  he  must  have  reached  the  deepest  pit 
of  hell.  As  he  drew  nearer,  he  looked  about,  for  he  heard 
screaming  and  groaning,  and  he  saw  a  field  full  of  men 
and  women,  each  lying  face  downward,  naked,  and  with 

'338 


38  VISION 

deadly  wounds.  They  lay  prone  on  the  earth,  bound  with 
iron  bands,  screaming  and  wailing,  "Alas,  alas,  mercy, 
mercy,  mercy,  God  Almighty !  "  Mercy  there  was  none, 
but  only  sorrow  of  heart  and  grinding  of  teeth,  which  was 
a  grisly  sight.  That  sorrow  and  misery  is  punishment  for 
the  foul  sin  of  sloth.  Whosoever  is  slow  in  God's  service 
may  expect  to  lie  in  purgatory  in  such  torment. 

That  was  the  first  pain  that  they  inflicted  on  him,  and 
after  he  had  recovered,  they  took  him  to  a  place  where  he 
saw  more  misery.  Men  and  women  crying  out,  "Alas-!  " 
and  "  Welaway ! "  lay  there,  faces  upward,  as  the  others  had 
lain  with  faces  downward,  with  feet  and  hands  and  heads 
nailed  fast  to  the  earth  with  nails  glowing  red.  Owain  saw 
loathsome  fiery  dragons  sitting  upon  them ;  on  others  sat 
black  toads,  newts,  adders,  and  snakes  that  ate  them,  backs 
and  sides.  This  is  the  punishment  of  gluttony ;  for  the 
love  of  God  be  warned,  since  that  sin  flourishes  all  too 
widely.  Owain  thought  a  wind  blew  among  them  so  bitter 
and  so  cold  that  it  overthrew  all  who  lay  in  purgatory.  The 
fiends  quickly  leaped  upon  the  sufferers  and  tore  them 
furiously  with  their  hooks.  Whosoever,  man  or  woman, 
is  guilty  of  impurity  in  this  life,  shall  suffer  in  that  prison. 
The  fiend  said  to  the  knight,  "Thou  hast  been  unclean  and 
a  great  glutton,  also ;  into  this  torment  thou  shalt  be  thrust 
unless  thou  wilt  return  speedily  the  way  thou  didst  come." 
Owain  said,  "  Nay,  Satan,  further  still  shall  I  go,  through 
the  grace  of  God  Almighty."  The  fiends  would  have  seized 
him,  but  he  called  upon  God  Omnipotent,  and  they  lost 
all  their  power. 

They  then  led  him  into  a  spot  where  men  never  did 
any  good  deeds,  but  only  shameful  and  villainous  ones. 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        39 

In  the  fourth  field  this  was,  full  of  torments.  There  were 
people  hanging  by  the  feet  from  burning  iron  hooks,  others 
hung  by  the  neck,  the  stomach,  the  back,  and  in  other 
ways  too  numerous  to  mention.  Some  were  hanging  by 
the  tongue,  and  their  constant  cry  was  "Alas !  "  and  no 
other  prayer.  In  a  furnace  with  molten  lead  and  burning 
brimstone  boiling  over  the  fire  were  many  folk.  Some 
lying  on  gridirons  glowing  against  the  flames  were  people 
whom  Owain  had  once  known,  but  who  were  now  entirely 
changed  through  the  penance  they  suffered.  A  wild  fire 
surged  among  them,  and  all  whom  it  seized,  it  burned, 
ten  thousand  souls  and  more.  Those  that  hung  by  feet 
and  neck  were  thieves,  or  the  companions  of  thieves,  and 
wrought  men  woe.  Those  that  hung  by  the  tongue  and  ever 
sang  "  Alas! "  and  cried  so  loudly  were  backbiters  in  their 
lives.  Beware,  man  or  wife,  if  thou  art  fond  of  chiding ! 
All  the  places  the  knight  came  by  were  full  of  the  pains 
of  purgatory.  Whosoever  takes  the  name  of  God  in  vain, 
or  bears  any  false  witness,  suffers  strong  pains  there. 

Owain  saw  where  a  grisly-looking  wheel  turned ;  huge 
it  was,  burning  like  a  brand  as  it  wound  around,  and  cov- 
ered with  hooks.  A  hundred  thousand  souls  and  more 
were  hanging  from  the  wheel.  The  fiends  turned  it  about 
so  fast  that  Sir  Owain  could  not  recognize  anybody  there. 
Out  of  the  earth  came  a  burning  blue  fire ;  it  smelled 
foully,  and  it  went  around  the  wheel,  burning  the  souls  to 
a  very  fine  powder.  The  wheel  that  runs  thus  is  for  the 
punishment  of  covetousness  that  now  reigns  everywhere. 
The  covetous  man  has  never  enough  gold  or  silver  or 
even  ploughs  until  Death  fells  him.  The  fiends  said  to 
the  knight,  ' '  Thou  hast  been  covetous  of  winning  land 


40  VISION 

and  men ;  upon  this  wheel  thou  shalt  be  placed  unless 
thou  wilt  return  at  once  to  thine  own  country."  When  he 
refused,  the  fiends  seized  him,  bound  him  fast  upon  the 
revolving  wheel,  and  cast  him  in  the  midst.  When  the 
hooks  tore  him  and  the  fire  burned  him,  he  thought  of 
Jesus  Christ.  An  angel  bore  him  from  the  wheel,  and  all 
the  fiends  there  could  do  him  no  harm. 

Further  he  was  led  in  great  pain,  until  they  came  to  a 
mountain  that  was  red  as  blood.  Men  and  women  stood 
on  it,  in  misery,  it  seemed,  for  they  cried  as  if  they  were 
mad.  The  fiends  then  said  to  the  knight,  "Thou  art  won- 
dering about  these  men  who  make  such  doleful  cheer. 
They  have  deserved  the  wrath  of  God ;  soon  they  shall 
have  such  a  drink  as  they  will  not  think  pleasant."  No 
sooner  had  he  spoken  than  there  came  a  blast  of  wind 
that  took  fiends  and  souls  and  knight  up  almost  into  the 
firmament,  and  then  cast  them  down  into  a  foul-smelling 
river  that  ran  under  the  mountain  of  fire  as  an  arrow  from 
a  cross-bow.  It  was  as  cold  as  ice,  and  no  one  can  describe 
the  pain  that  he  suffered.  Owain  was  almost  drowned  in 
the  water,  and  became  so  frenzied  and  faint  that  he  was 
well-nigh  lost.  As  soon  as  he  could  think  upon  God  he 
was  brought  out  of  the  water  and  carried  to  land.  That 
pain  is  the  punishment  of  wrath  and  envy.  Envy  was  the 
blast  of  wind  which  cast  him  into  the  smelling  water.  Let 
every  man  beware  of  it. 

They  led  him  forth  quickly  until  they  came  to  a  hall 
whose  like  he  had  never  seen  before  ;  out  of  the  hall  came 
such  heat  that  the  knight  began  to  sweat.  He  saw  so  foul 
a  smoke  that  he  stopped,  and  when  the  fiends  perceived 
it  they  were  pleased.    "  Turn  again,"  they  began  to  cry, 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        41 

"  thou  shalt  die,  unless  thou  dost  withdraw."  When  he 
came  to  the  hall  door  he  saw  misery,  a  half  of  which  he 
had  never  imagined.  The  hall  was  a  place  of  torments ; 
those  folk  who  were  in  that  prison  were  stripped  of  all 
happiness,  for  the  floor  of  the  hall  was  full  of  pits,  round 
and  filled  to  the  top  with  brimstone,  brass,  copper,  and 
other  metals  all  molten.  Men  and  women  stood  in  these, 
screaming  and  crying  as  if  they  were  mad  ;  some  stood  up 
to  the  waist,  others  to  the  breast,  and  some  to  the  chin. 
Each  man  according  to  his  guilt  was  fixed  in  that  torment, 
to  suffer  that  great  heat.  Some  bore  around  their  necks 
bags  full  of  pennies  glowing  with  fire,  and  such  meat  they 
ate.  These  were  usurers  in  this  life.  Beware,  men  and 
women,  lest  such  sin  hinder  you.  And  many  souls  there 
walked  upright,  bearing  false  measures  and  false  weights, 
which  fiends  sat  upon.  The  fiends  said  to  the  knight, 
"  Thou  must  bathe  in  this  lead  before  thou  go  hence ; 
because  of  thy  usury  and  thy  sin,  thou  must  wash  thyself 
somewhat.  Owain  feared  that  torment,  and  called  upon 
God  Omnipotent  and  His  mother  Mary.  He  was  borne 
out  of  the  hall,  from  the  pains  and  all  the  fiends,  when 
he  made  that  outcry. 

Soon  he  was  frightened  by  seeing  a  flame  of  fire,  mighty 
and  thick,  spring  out  of  the  earth,  like  coal  and  pitch.  Of 
seven  colors  was  this  fire,  and  some  of  the  souls  burning 
in  it  were  yellow,  some  green,  some  black,  some  blue,  and 
some  like  adders.  They  were  woful  indeed.  The  fiends 
took  the  knight  to  the  pit,  and  said,  "  Now,  Owain,  thou 
mayst  find  solace,  for  thou  shalt  shake  with  our  fellows 
in  the  pit  of  hell.  These  are  our  birds  in  our  cage,  and 
this  is  our  court  and  our  castle  tower.    Dost  thou  think, 


42  VISION 

Sir  Knight,  that  to  those  who  are  brought  here  anything  is 
sharp  ?  Now  turn  again,  ere  it  be  too  late,  before  we  thrust 
thee  into  hell  gate,  for  thou  shalt  never  issue  out  of  it  by 
means  of  any  crying  or  calling  upon  Mary,  or  by  any 
other  trick."  The  knight  was  firm,  so  the  fiends  seized 
and  bound  him,  and  cast  him  far  down  into  that  dark, 
evil,  reeking  prison.  The  farther  down  they  thrust  him 
the  hotter  it  was,  and  he  suffered  cruelly.  With  good  will 
and  steadfast  heart  he  called  upon  God  Omnipotent  to  help 
him  out  of  that  torment,  and  he  was  borne  up  out  of  the 
pit,  otherwise  he  would  have  been  lost  until  the  day  of  his 
death.  That  suffering,  which  lasts  forever,  is  for  the  foul 
sin  of  pride. 

Outside  the  pit  he  realized  how  God  had  rescued  him. 
His  clothes  were  torn  to  pieces,  his  body  was  burned  all 
over,  and  he  knew  not  which  way  to  go.  He  changed  color 
when  he  saw  more  fiends,  none  of  whom  he  recognized  in 
that  strange  place.  Some  of  them  had  sixty  eyes  that  were 
loathsome  and  grisly,  some  had  sixty  hands.  They  said, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  be  alone,  but  shalt  have  us  for  company, 
to  teach  thee  the  new  laws,  as  before  thou  didst  learn  them 
in  that  spot  where  thou  wast  among  our  fellows."  The 
fiends  then  led  the  knight  towards  a  foul-smelling  body 
of  water,  such  as  he  had  never  seen.  It  was  many  miles 
in  breadth  and  black  as  pitch.  Owain  saw  passing  over  it 
a  very  strong  but  narrow  bridge.  The  fiends  said,  "  Lo, 
Sir  Knight,  seest  thou  this  ?  This  is  the  bridge  of  para- 
dise ;  across  this  thou  must  go,  and  we  shall  hurl  stones 
at  thee,  and  the  wind  shall  blow  thee  over  and  work  thee 
woe.  Thou  wilt  never  pass  over  this  without  falling  into 
the  midst  of  our  fellows  to  dwell  forevermore.  When  thou 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        43 

hast  fallen  down,  then  all  our  company  will  come  and 
wound  thee  with  their  hooks.  We  shall  teach  thee  a  new 
sport,  for  thou  hast  served  us  many  a  day,  and  we  will  lead 
thee  into  hell." 

Owain  beheld  the  bridge  and  the  water  under  it,  so  black 
and  dreadful,  and  began  to  be  sore  afraid  because  of  one 
thing  he  noted :  never  did  motes  dance  in  the  sunbeam 
thicker  than  that  company  of  fiends.  The  bridge  1  was  as 
high  as  a  tower  and  as  sharp  as  a  razor ;  narrow  it  was, 
and  the  water  running  underneath  burned  with  lightning 
and  thunder.  He  was  exceedingly  woful.  There  is  no 
clerk  who  may  write  with  ink,  nor  no  man  who  can  think, 
nor  no  master  who  can  divine,  one  half  of  the  torment 
there  is  under  the  bridge  of  paradise.  We  are  told  that 
there  is  the  true  entrance  to  hell.  Saint  Paul  bears  wit- 
ness. Whosoever  falls  down  from  the  bridge  will  never 
have  redemption  in  any  degree. 

The  fiends  then  said  to  the  knight,  "There  is  no  need 
for  thee  to  cross  this  bridge.  Flee  pain,  sorrow,  and  woe, 
and  we  will  lead  thee  fairly  back  to  that  place  from  which 
thou  didst  come."  Owain  began  to  recall  from  how  many 
of  the  tricks  of  the  fiends  God  had  saved  him,  so  he  set 
his  foot  upon  the  bridge,  and  felt  no  sharp  edge,  nor  was 
he  at  all  afraid.  When  the  fiends  saw  that  he  was  more 
than  half  over,  they  began  to  cry  aloud,  "  Alas,  alas,  that 
he  was  born,  this  knight  we  have  lost  from  our  prison! " 

When  he  was  safely  across  the  bridge,  he  thanked  God 
Omnipotent  and  His  mother  Mary,  who  had  sent  him  such 
grace,  that  he  was  delivered  out  of  torment  into  a  better 

1  Other  versions  say  that  the  bridge  grew  wider  and  wider  as  Owain  passed 
over  it. 


44  VISION 

region.  A  cloth  of  gold  was  brought  to  him,  he  knew  not 
how  except  that  God  sent  it.  That  cloth  he  put  on,  and 
at  once  all  his  wounds  from  being  burned  were  whole, 
and  he  thanked  the  Trinity.  Looking  ahead,  he  saw  what 
seemed  to  be  a  stone  wall.  He  gazed  far  and  near,  but 
could  see  no  end  of  this,  which  shone  all  of  red  gold. 
Farther  on  he  saw  a  gate,  a  fairer  one  may  never  be  in 
this  world.  It  was  made,  not  of  wood  nor  of  steel,  but  of 
red  gold  and  of  precious  stones,  created  by  God  out  of 
nothing.  Jasper,  topaz,  crystal,  pearls,  and  coral,  rich 
sapphires,  rubies,  chalcedonies,  onyxes,  and  diamonds 
were  wrought  into  tabernacles.  Richer  they  might  not 
be  ;  they  had  pillars  small  and  beautifully  fashioned,  with 
arches  of  carbuncles,  knots  of  red  gold,  and  pinnacles  of 
crystal.  Inasmuch  as  our  Savior  is  more  skilful  than  any 
goldsmith  or  painter  in  any  land,  so  are  the  gates  of  para- 
dise more  richly  wrought  than  any  other. 

The  gates  unfastened  themselves,  and  a  fragrance  like 
balm  came  forth,  of  such  sweetness  that  the  knight  took 
fresh  strength  and  thought  that  now  he  would  be  a  thou- 
sand times  better  prepared  to  suffer  pain  and  woe  and  to 
fight  against  all  the  fiends  if  he  had  to  go  back  the  way 
he  came.  He  went  near  the  gate  and  saw  approaching  a 
procession  of  folk  with  gracious  countenances,  bearing 
tapers  and  candlesticks  of  gold  and  crosses  and  banners. 
Popes  there  were,  of  great  dignity,  and  many  cardinals, 
kings  and  queens,  knights,  abbots  superior,  monks,  canons, 
and  preaching  friars,  and  bishops  who  bore  crosses.  Minor- 
ite friars  and  Jacobins,  Carmelites  and  Austin  friars,  black 
and  white  nuns  —  all  manner  of  religious  orders  went  in  that 
procession.    The  order  of  wedlock  came  also,  with  many 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        45 

men  and  women  who  thanked  God  for  sending  his  grace 
to  deliver  the  knight  from  torment  by  the  fiends,  and  to 
bring  him  alive  to  that  spot.  When  the  praises  had  thus 
been  sung,  two  archbishops  came  out  of  the  midst  of  that 
company,  bearing  palms  of  gold.  They  advanced  to  the 
knight,  and,  taking  him  between  them,  led  him  up  and 
down,  and  showed  him  still  greater  joys  and  also  much 
melody.  Merry  were  their  carols  of  joy  and  minstrelsy. 
They  went  carolling  with  a  joy  no  man  can  divine,  sing- 
ing and  praising  God  ;  angels  guided  them  with  harps  and 
fiddles  and  psaltery,  and  bells  rang  merrily.  No  man  may 
carol  there  except  him  who  is  clean  from  sin  and  who  has 
given  up  all  folly.  Now  may  God  and  His  mother  Mary, 
in  memory  of  Thy  wounds,  grant  that  we  may  carol  in 
that  hall.  This  same  joy  is  granted  for  love  and  charity 
towards  God  and  all  mankind.  Whosoever  lets  earthly 
love  alone  and  loves  God  in  Trinity  may  carol  thus. 

Other  joys  he  saw  in  abundance  :  high  trees,  with  many 
branches,  on  which  the  birds  of  heaven  sat  and  sang  their 
notes  with  merry  glee,  some  low,  some  intermediate,  and 
some  high.  He  thought  indeed  that  with  the  song  of 
those  birds  he  might  live  happily  there  until  the  end  of 
the  world.  Then  he  saw  the  tree  of  life,  because  of  which 
Adam  and  his  wife  went  to  hell.  Fair  were  the  arbors, 
there,  with  flowers,  —  roses  and  lilies  of  many  colors, 
primroses  and  periwinkle,  mint,  featherfoy  and  eglantine, 
columbine,  and  many  others,  more  than  man  can  think. 
Herbs  of  other  kinds  than  on  earth  grow  there,  though 
that  is  the  least  of  the  praises  of  the  place.  Forever  they 
spring  up  green,  sweeter  than  licorice,  unchanging  in 
winter  and  summer. 


46  VISION 

There  are  wells  in  that  spot,  with  water  sweeter  than 
any  mead,  and  out  of  the  chief  one  which  Owain  saw,  run 
the  four  streams  of  paradise.  Pison,  they  call  one  stream 
that  gleams  brightly,  because  men  find  gold  there  ;  Gihon 
is  another  that  is  much  praised  for  the  precious  stones  in 
its  bed ;  the  third  stream  is  named  Euphrates,  it  runs 
straight  along ;  and  the  fourth  is  Tigris,  in  all  the  world 
is  there  none  other  with  stones  so  bright.  Whosoever 
loves  to  live  in  purity  shall  have  that  same  bliss  and  see 
that  same  sight.  More  Owain  saw  there,  under  God's 
glory  on  high ;  blessed  be  His  might ! 

Some  souls  he  saw  apart  by  themselves,  and  some  in 
groups  of  ten  or  twelve ;  and  when  they  met  together  they 
made  as  much  rejoicing  as  sister  does  with  brother.  Some 
he  saw  going  about  in  scarlet  red,  some  in  purple  well 
wrought,  and  others  in  thin  silk.  They  wore  tunics  and 
albs,  like  what  the  priest  wears  at  mass,  some  covered  with 
gold  work.  The  knight  knew  well  by  their  clothing  in  what 
state  they  were,  and  what  deeds  they  had  done  when  they 
were  men's  companions.  I  will  tell  you  a  fair  similitude 
drawn  from  the  clear  stars ;  inasmuch  as  one  star  is 
brighter  to  the  sight  and  of  more  power  than  three  others, 
so  is  it  with  the  joys  of  paradise.  They  are  not  all  alike, 
yet  he  who  has  the  least  joy  thinks  he  has  the  most  of  all 
and  calls  himself  very  rich. 

The  bishops  came  again  and,  taking  him  between  them, 
led  him  up  and  down  and  said,  "  Brother,  God  be  praised, 
thy  wish  is  fulfilled.  Now  listen  to  our  counsel.  Thou  hast 
seen  with  thine  eyes  both  the  joys  and  the  pains.  We  will 
tell  thee  ere  thou  dost  pass  hence,  of  our  common  fate. 
That  land  that  is  so  full  of  sorrow,  evening  and  morning, 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        47 

where  thou  as  well  as  many  other  souls  didst  suffer 
sorely,  is  called  by  men  purgatory.  And  this  land,  where 
thou  now  art,  so  wide  and  spacious  and  so  full  of  bliss,  is 
called  paradise.  No  man  may  come  here  until  he  has  been 
purged  and  made  clean  there.  When  they  come  hither, 
we  lead  them  into  joy,  sometimes  by  groups  of  twelve  and 
ten.  And  some  are  so  bound,  that  they  know  not  how  long 
they  must  endure  the  heat ;  but  if  their  friends  who  are  left 
on  earth  have  masses  sung,  or  else  give  food  or  some  other 
kind  of  alms,  all  the  better  will  these  folk  speed  and  will 
come  out  of  their  misery  into  this  paradise,  where  joy  and 
bliss  ever  are,  and  will  live  here  in  perfect  peace.  Just  as 
they  come  out  of  purgatory,  so  pass  we  on  to  God's  glory, 
which  is  the  high  kingdom  of  the  celestial  paradise,  wherein 
enter  only  Christian  folk  to  a  joy  unequalled.  When  we 
come  out  of  the  fire  of  purgatory  we  cannot  pass  at  once  into 
that  place  nor  see  God's  face,  but  must  dwell  here  a  long 
time.  Even  the  child  born  tonight  must  pass  through  that 
pain  before  he  can  enter  heaven,  and  how  much  harder  is 
it  for  an  old  man  who  has  been  long  in  sin  to  come  hither! " 
Forth  they  went  until  they  saw  a  very  high  mountain 
where  all  was  pleasure.  Finally  they  came  to  the  top,  and 
saw  all  its  joys.  There  were  all  manner  of  bird  songs ; 
much  delight  was  there  and  evermore  shall  be.  There  is 
more  joy  in  a  bird's  mouth  than  in  any  harp  or  fiddle  or 
crouth,1  whether  on  land  or  sea.  That  land  so  fair  is  called 
the  terrestrial  paradise;  the  other  paradise,  which  is  the 
kingdom  of  God,  is  above  the  air  and  has  joys  unequalled. 
(In  the  earthly  paradise  Owain  was,  which  Adam  had  lost, 
and  if  Adam  had  done  according  to  the  will  of  God,  neither 

1  A  stringed  instrument. 


48  VISION 

he  nor  his  offspring  would  have  had  to  depart  out  of  that 
joy.  Yet,  since  Adam  broke  God's  commandment  so  soon, 
God  made  him  delve  with  pick  and  spade  in  the  earth,  to 
help  his  wife  and  himself.  God  was  very  wroth  with  him. 
An  angel  of  stern  countenance,  bearing  a  sword  of  fire, 
came  and  made  them  sore  afraid,  and  drove  them  out  into 
the  world,  where  they  lived  evermore  in  sorrow  and  woe. 
And  when  he  died  he  came  to  hell,  as  did  all  his  descend- 
ants, until  the  Son  of  God  was  born,  by  whose  passion  and 
death  man  was  brought  out  of  that  prison.) * 

The  bishops  commanded  the  knight  to  tell  them  whether 
heaven  seemed  white  or  gray,  blue  or  red,  yellow  or  green. 
The  knight  answered,  "  Methinks  it  is  a  thousand  times 
brighter  than  any  gold."  'Yet,"  said  the  bishop,  "that 
very  place  which  is  so  bright  is  only  the  entrance,  and 
every  day,  to  make  us  blithe,  we  are  refreshed  by  a  sweet 
fragrance,  which  is  food  to  our  soul."  Anon  the  knight 
was  aware  that  a  flame  of  fire  issued  out  from  heaven's 
gate,  and  he  thought  that  it  flew  all  over  paradise,  giving 
forth  a  sweet  smell.  The  Holy  Ghost,  in  form  of  fire, 
alighted  then  upon  the  knight,  by  whose  virtue  he  lost  all 
his  earthliness ;  and  for  this  he  thanked  God's  grace. 

Then  the  bishop  said,  "  God  feeds  us  each  day  with 
His  bread,  but  we  have  no  such  knowledge  of  His  grace, 
nor  such  a  vision  of  His  face  as  have  those  who  are  on 
high.  The  souls  who  are  at  God's  feast  have  joy  that  lasts 
without  end.  Now  thou,  because  of  our  common  fate, 
must  return  again  the  way  thou  didst  come.  Keep  thyself 
from  mortal  sin,  so  that  when  thou  art  dead  thou  mayst 
be  led  by  angels  into  the  joy  that  has  no  end." 

Then  Owain  wept  bitterly  and  prayed  for  God's  mercy 

1  Here  is  a  gap  of  two  stanzas  and  more,  pursuing  the  theme  of  Adam. 


THE  PURGATORY  OF  SAINT  PATRICK        49 

that  he  might  dwell  there  and  might  not  behold  again  the 
strong  pains  of  hell.  From  his  prayer  he  got  no  gain  ;  so 
he  took  his  leave  and  departed,  although  he  was  very  sor- 
rowful. Fiends  he  saw  —  ten  thousand  flying  from  him  fast 
as  arrows  from  a  cross-bow.  When  he  came  to  the  hall 
he  found  the  thirteen  men  therein.  They  all  held  up  their 
hands,  and  thanked  the  mercy  of  Jesus  Christ  a  thousand 
times  and  more,  and  bade  Owain  not  to  rest  until  he  had 
returned  to  Ireland  as  quickly  as  he  could  go.  And,  as  I 
find  in  the  story,  the  prior  of  the  purgatory  had  a  token 
that  night  that  Owain  had  overcome  his  woes  and  would 
appear  on  the  morrow,  through  grace  of  God  Almighty. 

Then  the  prior,  at  the  head  of  a  procession  with  cross 
and  banner,  went  at  once  to  the  hole  where  Owain  had 
gone,  and  soon  they  saw  a  gleam  of  light  like  a  bright  fire 
burning ;  then  in  the  midst  of  the  light  came  Owain,  the 
knight  of  God.  Then  they  knew  well  that  Owain  had 
been  in  paradise  and  in  purgatory,  and  that  he  was  a  holy 
man.  They  led  him  into  holy  church,  to  do  God's  office 
and  to  say  his  prayers.  On  the  fifteenth  day,  the  knight 
took  staff  and  scrip  and  sought  the  holy  place  where  Christ 
bought  us  so  dearly  upon  the  cross  and  where  He  rose 
from  death  to  life  through  the  virtue  of  His  five  wounds. 
Blessed  may  He  be !  And  Bethlehem,  too,  he  visited, 
where  Christ  was  born  of  Mary,  His  mother  like  the  flower 
of  the  thorn.  At  last,  returning  to  Ireland,  Owain  took  the 
monk's  habit  and  lived  there  seven  years.  When  he  died 
he  entered,  truly,  into  the  high  joys  of  paradise,  through 
the  help  of  God's  grace.  Now  for  the  love  of  Saint  Owain, 
may  God  grant  us  the  bliss  of  heaven  above,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  His  sweet  face  !  Amen  ! 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


SAINTS'  LIVES 

THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON 
THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  MARGARET 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON1 

Saint  Brandon,  the  holy  man,  was  a  monk  and  born  in 
Ireland,  and  there  he  was  abbot  of  a  house  wherein  were 
a  thousand  monks,  and  there  he  had  a  full  strait  and 
holy  life  in  great  penance  and  abstinence,  and  he  governed 
his  monks  full  virtuously.  And  then  within  short  while 
after  there  came  to  him  an  holy  abbot,  that  hight  Birinus, 
to  visit  him,  and  each  of  them  was  joyful  of  other.  And 
then  Saint  Brandon  began  to  tell  to  the  Abbot  Birinus  of 
many  wonders  that  he  had  seen  in  divers  lands,  and  when 
Birinus  heard  that  of  Saint  Brandon,  he  began  to  sigh  and 
sore  weep,  and  Saint  Brandon  comforted  him  in  the  best 
wise  that  he  could,  saying,  ' '  Ye  come  hither  for  to  be 
joyful  with  me,  and  therefore  for  God's  love  leave  your 
mourning,  and  tell  me  what  marvels  ye  have  seen  in  the 
great  sea  ocean  that  compasseth  all  the  world  about  and 
all  other  waters  come  out  of  him,  which  runneth  in  all 
parts  of  the  earth." 

And  then  Birinus  began  to  tell  to  Saint  Brandon  and  to 
his  monks  the  marvels  that  he  had  seen,  full  sore  weep- 
ing, and  said  :  "  I  have  a  son,  his  name  is  Mervok,  and 
he  was  a  monk  of  great  fame,  which  had  great  desire  to 
seek  about  by  ship  in  divers  countries  to  find  a  solitary 
place  wherein  he  might  dwell  secretly  out  of  the  business 
of  the  world  for  to  serve  God  quietly  with  more  devotion. 
And  I  counselled  him  to  sail  into  an  island  far  in  the  sea 

1  See  Notes. 
53 


54  SAINTS'  LIVES 

beside  the  Mountain  of  Stones,  which  is  full  well  known ; 
and  then  he  made  him  ready  and  sailed  thither  with  his 
monks.  And  when  he  came  thither  he  liked  the  place  full 
well,  where  he  and  his  monks  served  our  Lord  full  devoutly." 

And  then  Birinus  saw  in  a  vision  that  this  monk  Mer- 
vok  was  sailed  right  far  eastward  in  the  sea,  more  than 
three  days'  sailing,  and  suddenly,  to  his  seeming,  there 
came  a  dark  cloud  and  over-covered  them,  that  a  great 
part  of  the  day  they  saw  no  light,  and,  as  our  Lord  would, 
the  cloud  passed  away  and  they  saw  a  full  fair  island,  and 
thitherward  they  drew.  In  that  island  was  joy  and  mirth 
enough,  and  the  earth  of  that  island  shined  as  bright  as 
the  sun ;  and  there  were  the  fairest  trees  and  herbs  that 
ever  any  man  saw,  and  there  were  many  precious  stones 
shining  bright,  and  every  herb  there  was  full  of  flowers, 
and  every  tree  full  of  fruit,  so  that  it  was  a  glorious  sight 
and  a  heavenly  joy  to  abide  there. 

And  then  there  came  to  them  a  fair  young  man,  and 
full  courteously  he  welcomed  them  all,  and  called  every 
monk  by  his  name,  and  he  said  that  they  were  much  bound 
to  praise  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesu,  that  would,  of  His 
grace,  shew  to  them  this  glorious  place  where  is  ever  day 
and  never  night.  And  this  place  is  called  Paradise  Ter- 
restrial. By  this  island  is  another  island  wherein  no  man 
may  come,  and  this  young  man  said  to  them  :  "Ye  have 
been  here  half  a  year  without  meat,  drink,  or  sleep,"  and 
they  supposed  they  had  not  been  there  the  space  of  half 
an  hour,  so  merry  and  joyful  they  were  there.  And  the 
young  man  told  them  that  this  is  the  place  that  Adam  and 
Eve  dwelt  in  first,  and  ever  should  have  dwelled  here  if 
that  they  had  not  broken  the  commandment  of  God. 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  55 

Then  the  young  man  brought  them  to  their  ship  again 
and  said  they  might  no  longer  abide  there  ;  and  when  they 
were  all  shipped,  suddenly  this  young  man  vanished  away 
out  of  their  sight.  And  then  within  short  time  after,  by 
the  purveyance  of  our  Lord  Jesu  Christ,  they  came  to  the 
abbey  where  Saint  Brandon  dwelled,  and  then  he  with 
his  brethren  received  them  goodly  and  demanded  them 
where  they  had  been  so  long,  and  they  said  :  '  We  have 
been  in  the  Land  of  Behest,  tofore  the  gates  of  paradise, 
whereas  is  ever  day  and  never  night."  And  they  said  all 
that  the  place  is  full  delectable,  for  yet  all  their  clothes 
smelled  of  the  sweet  and  joyful  place. 

And  then  Saint  Brandon  purposed  soon  after  for  to  seek 
that  place  by  God's  help,  and  anon  began  to  purvey  for  a 
good  ship  and  a  strong,  and  victualled  it  for  seven  years. 
And  then  he  took  his  leave  of  all  his  brethren  and  took 
twelve  monks  with  him,  but,  ere  they  entered  into  the 
ship,  they  fasted  forty  days  and  lived  devoutly,  and  each 
of  them  received  the  sacrament.  And  when  Saint  Bran- 
don with  his  twelve  monks  were  entered  into  the  ship, 
there  came  other  two  of  his  monks  and  prayed  him  that 
they  might  sail  with  him,  and  then  he  said :  '  Ye  may 
sail  with  me,  but  one  of  you  shall  go  to  hell  ere  you  come 
again."    But  for  all  that  they  would  go  with  him. 

And  then  Saint  Brandon  bade  the  shipmen  to  wind  up 
the  sail,  and  forth  they  sailed  in  God's  name,  so  that  on 
the  morrow  they  were  out  of  sight  of  any  land.  And  forty 
days  and  forty  nights  after  they  sailed  plat  east,  and  then 
they  saw  an  island  far  from  them  ;  and  they  sailed  thither- 
ward as  fast  as  they  could,  and  they  saw  a  great  rock  of 
stone  appear  above  all  the  water  ;  and  three  days  they  sailed 


56  SAINTS'  LIVES 

about  it  ere  they  could  get  into  the  place,  but  at  the  last, 
by  the  purveyance  of  God,  they  found  a  little  haven  and 
there  went  aland  every  each  one.  And  then  suddenly  came 
a  fair  hound,  and  fell  down  at  the  feet  of  Saint  Brandon 
and  made  him  good  cheer  in  his  manner.  And  then  he 
bade  his  brethren  be  of  good  cheer,  "  For  our  Lord  hath 
sent  to  us  his  messenger  to  lead  us  into  some  good  place." 
And  the  hound  brought  them  into  a  fair  hall,  where  they 
found  the  tables  spread,  ready  set  full  of  good  meat  and 
drink.  And  then  Saint  Brandon  said  graces,  and  then  he 
and  his  brethren  sat  down  and  ate  and  drank  of  such  as 
they  found,  and  there  were  beds  ready  for  them  wherein 
they  took  their  rest  after  their  long  labour. 

And  on  the  morn  they  returned  again  to  their  ship,  and 
sailed  a  long  time  in  the  sea  after,  ere  they  could  find  any 
land,  till  at  last,  by  the  purveyance  of  God,  they  saw  far 
from  them  a  full  fair  island,  full  of  green  pasture,  wherein 
were  the  whitest  and  greatest  sheep  that  ever  they  saw ; 
for  every  sheep  was  as  great  as  an  ox.  And  soon  after 
came  to  them  a  goodly  old  man,  which  welcomed  them 
and  made  to  them  good  cheer,  and  said  :  ' '  This  is  the 
Island  of  Sheep.  And  here  is  never  cold  weather  but 
ever  summer,  and  that  causeth  the  sheep  to  be  so  great 
and  white  :  they  eat  of  the  best  grass  and  herbs  that  is 
anywhere."  And  then  this  old  man  took  his  leave  of 
them  and  bade  them  sail  forth  right  east,  and  within  short 
time,  by  God's  grace,  they  should  come  into  a  place  like 
paradise  wherein  they  should  keep  their  Eastertide. 

And  then  they  sailed  forth,  and  came  soon  after  to  that 
land,  but  could  find  no  haven  because  of  little  depth  in 
some  place,  and  in  some  place  were  great  rocks.    But  at 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  $7 

the  last  they  went  upon  an  island,  weening  to  them  that 
they  had  been  safe,  and  made  thereon  a  fire  for  to  dress 
their  dinner,  but  Saint  Brandon  abode  still  in  the  ship. 
When  the  fire  was  right  hot  and  the  meat  nigh  sodden, 
then  this  island  began  to  move,  whereof  the  monks  were 
afeard,  and  fled  anon  to  the  ship  and  left  the  fire  and 
meat  behind  them,  and  marvelled  sore  of  the  moving. 
And  Saint  Brandon  comforted  them  and  said  that  it  was  a 
great  fish  named  Jasconye,  which  laboureth  night  and  day 
to  put  his  tail  in  his  mouth  but  for  greatness  he  may  not. 
And  then  anon  they  sailed  west  three  days  and  three 
nights  ere  they  saw  any  land,  wherefore  they  were  right 
heavy,  but  soon  after,  as  God  would,  they  saw  a  fair  island 
full  of  flowers,  herbs,  and  trees ;  whereof  they  thanked 
God  of  His  good  grace,  and  anon  they  went  on  land.  And 
when  they  had  gone  long  in  this,  they  found  a  full  fair 
well,  and  thereby  stood  a  fair  tree  full  of  boughs,  and  on 
every  bough  sat  a  fair  bird,  and  they  sat  so  thick  on  the 
tree  that  unnethe  any  leaf  of  the  tree  might  be  seen.  The 
number  of  them  was  so  great  and  they  sang  so  merrily 
that  it  was  an  heavenly  noise  to  hear,  wherefore  Saint 
Brandon  kneeled  down  on  his  knees  and  wept  for  joy, 
and  made  his  prayers  devoutly  to  our  Lord  God  to  know 
what  these  birds  meant.  And  then  anon  one  of  these 
birds  fled  from  the  tree  to  Saint  Brandon,  and  he  with 
flickering  of  his  wings  made  a  full  merry  noise  like  a  fiddle, 
that  him  seemed  he  heard  never  so  joyful  a  melody.  And 
then  Saint  Brandon  commanded  the  bird  to  tell  him  the 
cause  why  they  sat  so  thick  on  the  tree  and  sang  so  merrily. 
And  then  the  bird  said  :  "  Sometime  we  were  angels  in 
heaven.    But  when  our  master  Lucifer  fell  down  into 


58  SAINTS'  LIVES 

hell  for  his  high  pride,  we  fell  with  him  for  our  offences, 
some  higher  and  some  lower,  after  the  quality  of  the  tres- 
pass, and  because  our  trespass  is  but  little,  therefore  our 
Lord  hath  set  us  here,  out  of  all  pain,  in  full  great  joy  and 
mirth,  after  His  pleasing,  here  to  serve  Him  in  this  tree 
in  the  best  manner  we  can.  The  Sunday  is  a  day  of  rest 
from  all  worldly  occupation,  and  therefore  this  day  all  we 
be  made  as  white  as  any  snow  for  to  praise  our  Lord  in 
the  best  wise  we  may."  And  then  this  bird  said  to  Saint 
Brandon  :  "  It  is  twelve  months  passed  that  ye  departed 
from  your  abbey,  and  in  the  seventh  year  hereafter  ye 
shall  see  the  place  that  ye  desire  to  come  to.  And  all 
these  seven  years,  ye  shall  keep  your  Easter  here  with  us 
every  year,  and  in  the  end  of  the  seventh  year  ye  shall 
come  unto  the  Land  of  Behest." 

And  this  was  on  Easter  Day  that  the  bird  said  these 
words  to  Saint  Brandon  ;  and  then  this  fowl  flew  again  to 
his  fellows  that  sat  on  the  tree,  and  then  the  birds  began 
to  sing  evensong  so  merrily  that  it  was  an  heavenly  noise 
to  hear.  And  after  supper  Saint  Brandon  and  his  fellows 
went  to  bed  and  slept  well ;  and  on  the  morn  they  arose 
betimes,  and  then  those  birds  began  matins,  prime,  and 
hours,  and  all  such  service  as  Christian  men  use  to  sing. 
And  Saint  Brandon  with  his  fellows  abode  there  eight 
weeks,  till  Trinity  Sunday  was  passed. 

And  they  sailed  again  to  the  Island  of  Sheep,  and  they 
victualled  them  well,  and  took  their  leave  of  that  old  man 
and  returned  again  to  ship.  And  then  the  bird  of  the  tree 
came  again  to  Saint  Brandon  and  said  :  "  I  am  come  to  tell 
you  that  ye  shall  sail  from  hence  into  an  island,  wherein  is 
an  abbey  of  twenty-four  monks,  which  is  from  this  place 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  $9 

many  a  mile,  and  there  ye  shall  hold  your  Christmas  and 
your  Easter  with  us,  like  as  I  told  you."  And  then  this 
bird  flew  to  his  fellows  again. 

Then  Saint  Brandon  and  his  fellows  sailed  forth  in 
the  ocean,  and  soon  after  fell  a  great  tempest  on  them  in 
which  they  were  greatly  troubled  long  time  and  sore  for- 
laboured.  And  after  that  they  found,  by  the  purveyance  of 
God,  an  island  that  was  far  from  them,  and  then  they  full 
meekly  prayed  our  Lord  to  send  them  thither  in  safety,  but 
it  was  forty  days  after  ere  they  came  thither ;  wherefore 
all  the  monks  were  so  weary  of  that  trouble  that  they  set 
little  price  by  their  lives,  and  cried  continually  to  our  Lord 
to  have  mercy  on  them,  and  bring  them  to  that  island  in 
safety.  And,  by  the  purveyance  of  God,  they  came  at  the 
last  into  a  little  haven,  but  it  was  so  strait  that  unnethe  * 
the  ship  might  come  in  ;  and  after,  they  came  to  an  anchor, 
and  anon  the  monks  went  to  land.  And  when  they  had 
long  walked  about,  at  the  last  they  found  two  fair  wells  : 
one  was  fair  and  clear  water,  but  the  other  was  somewhat 
troubly  and  thick.  And  then  they  thanked  our  Lord  fully 
humbly  that  had  brought  them  thither  in  safety  ;  and  they 
would  fain  have  drunken  of  that  water,  but  Saint  Brandon 
charged  them  they  should  not  take  without  licence  :  "  For 
if  we  abstain  us  awhile,  our  Lord  will  purvey  for  us  in  the 
best  wise."  And  anon  after  came  to  them  a  fair  old  man 
with  hoar  hair,  and  welcomed  them  full  meekly  and  kissed 
Saint  Brandon,  and  led  them  by  many  a  fair  well  till  they 
came  to  a  fair  abbey,  where  they  were  received  with  great 
honour  and  solemn  procession  with  twenty-four  monks  all 
in  royal  copes  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  a  royal  cross  was  before 

1  scarcely. 


60  SAINTS'  LIVES 

them.  And  then  the  abbot  welcomed  Saint  Brandon  and 
his  fellowship,  and  kissed  them  full  meekly,  and  took 
Saint  Brandon  by  the  hand  and  led  him  with  his  monks 
into  a  fair  hall,  and  set  them  down  arow  upon  the  bench, 
and  the  abbot  of  the  place  washed  all  their  feet  with  fair 
water  of  the  well  that  they  saw  before,  and  after,  he  led  them 
into  a  fraitour1  and  there  set  them  among  his  convent. 
And  anon  there  came  one,  by  the  purveyance  of  God,  which 
served  them  well  of  meat  and  drink,  for  every  monk  had 
set  before  him  a  fair  white  loaf  and  white  roots  and  herbs 
which  were  right  delicious,  but  they  wist  not  what  roots 
they  were.  And  they  drank  of  the  water  of  the  fair  clear 
well  which  they  saw  before  when  they  came  first  aland, 
which  Saint  Brandon  forbade  them. 

And  then  the  abbot  came  and  cheered  Saint  Brandon 
and  his  monks  and  bade  them  eat  and  drink  for  charity : 
"  For  every  day  our  Lord  sendeth  a  goodly  old  man  that 
covereth  this  table  and  setteth  our  meat  and  drink  tofore 
us,  but  we  know  not  how  it  cometh,  ne  we  ordain  never 
no  meat  ne  drink  for  us,  and  yet  we  have  been  eighty 
years  here,  and  ever  our  Lord,  worshipped  may  He  be, 
feedeth  us.  We  be  twenty-four  monks  in  number,  and 
every  ferial2  day  of  the  week  He  sendeth  to  us  twelve 
loaves,  and  every  Sunday  and  feast  day  twenty-four  loaves, 
and  the  bread  that  we  leave  at  dinner  we  eat  at  supper. 
And  now  at  your  coming  our  Lord  hath  sent  unto  us 
forty-eight  loaves,  for  to  make  you  and  us  merry  together 
as  brethren.  And  always  twelve  of  us  go  to  dinner  while 
other  twelve  keep  the  quire,  and  thus  have  we  done  these 
eighty  years,  for  so  long  have  we  dwelled  in  this  abbey. 

1  refectory.  2  ordinary. 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  6 1 

We  came  hither  out  of  the  abbey  of  Saint  Patrick  in 
Ireland,  and  thus  as  ye  see  our  Lord  hath  purveyed  for 
us,  but  none  of  us  knoweth  how  it  cometh  but  God  alone 
to  whom  be  given  honour  and  laud,  world  without  end. 
Here  in  this  land  is  ever  fair  weather,  and  none  of  us 
hath  ever  been  sick  sith  we  came  hither.  And  when  we 
go  to  mass  or  to  any  other  service  of  our  Lord  in  the 
church,  anon  seven  tapers  of  wax  be  set  in  the  quire 
and  be  lighted  at  every  time  without  man's  hand,  and  so 
burn  day  and  night  at  every  hour  of  service,  and  never 
waste  ne  minish  as  long  as  we  have  been  here,  which  is 
eighty  years." 

Then  Saint  Brandon  went  to  the  church  with  the  abbot 
of  the  place,  and  there  they  said  evensong  together  full 
devoutly,  and  then  Saint  Brandon  looked  upward  towards 
the  crucifix  and  saw  our  Lord  hanging  on  the  cross, 
which  was  made  of  fine  crystal  and  curiously  wrought. 
And  in  the  quire  were  twenty-four  seats  for  twenty-four 
monks,  and  the  seven  tapers  burning,  and  the  abbot's 
seat  was  made  in  the  midst  of  the  quire.  Then  Saint 
Brandon  demanded  of  the  abbot  how  long  they  had  kept 
that  silence,  that  none  of  them  spake  to  other,  and  he 
said :  '  This  twenty-four  years  we  spake  never  one  to 
another."  And  then  Saint  Brandon  wept  for  joy  of  their 
holy  conversation.  And  then  Saint  Brandon  desired  of 
the  abbot  that  he  and  his  monks  might  dwell  there  still 
with  him.  To  whom  the  abbot  said  :  "  Sir,  that  may  ye 
not  do  in  no  wise,  for  our  Lord  hath  shewed  to  you  in 
what  manner  ye  shall  be  guided  till  the  seven  years  be 
fulfilled,  and  after  that  term  thou  shalt  with  thy  monks 
return  into  Ireland  in  safety,  but  one  of  the  two  monks 


62  SAINTS'  LIVES 

that  came  last  to  you  shall  dwell  in  the  Island  of  Ankers,1 
and  that  other  shall  go  quick  to  hell." 

And  as  Saint  Brandon  kneeled  in  the  church,  he  saw  a 
bright  shining  angel  come  in  at  the  window,  and  lighted 
all  the  lights  in  the  church,  and  then  he  flew  out  again  at 
the  window  unto  heaven.  Then  Saint  Brandon  marvelled 
greatly  how  the  light  burned  so  fair  and  wasted  not.  Then 
the  abbot  said,  "It  is  written  that  Moses  saw  a  bush  all 
on  afire  and  yet  it  burned  not,  and  therefore  marvel  not 
hereof,  for  the  might  of  our  Lord  is  now  as  great  as  it 
ever  was." 

And  when  Saint  Brandon  had  dwelled  there  from 
Christmas  even  till  the  twelfth  day  was  passed,  then  he 
took  his  leave  of  the  abbot  of  the  convent  and  returned 
with  his  monks  to  his  ship.  And  he  sailed  from  thence  with 
his  monks  toward  the  abbey  of  Saint  Illaries  ;  but  they  had 
great  tempests  in  the  sea  from  that  time  till  Palm  Sunday. 

And  then  they  came  to  the  Island  of  Sheep  and  there 
were  received  of  the  old  man,  which  brought  them  to  a 
fair  hall  and  served  them.  And  on  Shere  Thursday2  after 
supper  he  did  wash  all  their  feet  and  kissed  them,  like  as 
our  Lord  did  to  His  disciples,  and  there  they  abode  till 
Saturday,  Easter  Even  ;  and  they  departed  and  sailed  to  the 
place  where  the  fish  lay  ;  and  anon  they  saw  their  cauldron 
upon  the  fish's  back,  which  they  had  left  there  twelve 
months  tofore.  There  they  kept  the  service  of  the  resur- 
rection, on  the  fish's  back,  and  after,  they  sailed  that  same 
day  by  the  morning  to  the  island  whereas  the  tree  of 
birds  was,  and  then  the  said  bird  welcomed  Saint  Brandon 
and  all  his  fellowship,  and  went  again  to  the  tree  and  sang 

1  hermits.  2  Thursday  before  Easter. 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  63 

full  merrily.  And  there  he  and  his  monks  dwelled  from 
Easter  till  Trinity  Sunday,  as  they  did  the  year  before,  in 
full  great  joy  and  mirth.  And  daily  they  heard  the  merry 
sendee  of  the  birds  sitting  on  the  tree. 

And  then  the  bird  told  to  Saint  Brandon  that  he  should 
return  again  at  Christmas  to  the  abbey  of  monks,  and  at 
Easter  thither  again,  and  the  other  deal  of  the  year  labour 
in  the  ocean  in  full  great  perils,  and  from  year  to  year 
till  the  seven  years  be  accomplished.  "  And  then  shall  ye 
come  to  the  joyful  place  of  paradise  and  dwell  there  forty 
days  in  full  great  joy  and  mirth.  And  after,  ye  shall  return 
home  into  your  own  abbey  in  safety,  and  there  end  your 
life  and  come  to  the  bliss  of  heaven  to  which  our  Lord 
bought  you  with  His  precious  blood." 

And  then  the  angel  of  our  Lord  ordained  all  thing  that 
was  needful  to  Saint  Brandon  and  to  his  monks  in  victuals 
and  all  other  things  necessary,  and  then  they  thanked  our 
Lord  of  His  great  goodness  He  had  shewed  to  them  oft  in 
their  great  need,  and  sailed  forth  in  the  great  sea  ocean, 
abiding  the  mercy  of  our  Lord  in  great  trouble  and  tempests. 

And  soon  after  came  to  them  an  horrible  fish  which 
followed  the  ship  long  time,  casting  so  much  water  out  of 
his  mouth  into  the  ship  that  they  supposed  to  have  been 
drowned,  wherefore  they  devoutly  prayed  God  to  deliver 
them  of  that  great  peril.  And  anon  after,  came  another 
fish,  greater  than  he,  out  of  the  west  sea,  and  fought  with 
him,  and  at  the  last  clave  him  into  three  pieces,  and  then 
returned  again.  And  then  they  thanked  meekly  our  Lord 
for  their  deliverance  from  this  great  peril,  but  they  were 
in  great  heaviness  because  their  victuals  were  nigh  spent. 
But,  by  the  ordinance  of  our  Lord,  there  came  a  bird  and 


64  SAINTS'  LIVES 

brought  to  them  a  great  branch  of  a  vine  full  of  red 
grapes,  by  which  they  lived  fourteen  days,  and  then  they 
came  to  a  little  island,  wherein  were  many  vines  full  of 
grapes.  And  they  there  landed  and  thanked  God,  and 
gathered  as  many  grapes  as  they  lived  by  forty  days  after, 
alway  sailing  in  the  sea  in  many  storms  and  tempests. 

And  as  they  thus  sailed,  suddenly  came  flying  towards 
them  a  great  grip x  which  assailed  them  and  was  like  to 
have  destroyed  them.  Wherefore  they  devoutly  prayed 
for  help  and  aid  of  our  Lord  Jesu  Christ.  And  then  the 
bird  of  the  tree  of  the  island  where  they  had  holden  their 
Easter  tofore  came  to  the  grip  and  smote  out  both  his 
eyes  and  after  slew  him,  whereof  they  thanked  our  Lord. 

And  then  they  sailed  forth  continually  till  Saint  Peter's 
day,  and  then  sang  they  solemnly  their  service  in  the 
honour  of  the  feast.  And  in  that  place  the  water  was  so 
clear  that  they  might  see  all  the  fishes  that  were  about 
them,  whereof  they  were  full  sore  aghast,  and  the  monks 
counselled  Saint  Brandon  to  sing  no  more,  for  all  the 
fishes  lay  then  as  they  had  slept.  And  then  Saint  Bran- 
don said  :  "  Dread  ye  not,  for  ye  have  kept  by  two  Easters 
the  feast  of  the  resurrection  upon  the  great  fish's  back, 
and  therefore  dread  ye  not  of  these  little  fishes."  And 
then  Saint  Brandon  made  him  ready  and  went  to  mass 
and  bade  his  monks  to  sing  the  best  way  they  could,  and 
then  anon  all  the  fishes  awoke  and  came  about  the  ship 
so  thick  that  unnethe  they  might  see  the  water  for  the 
fishes,  and  when  the  mass  was  done,  all  the  fishes  de- 
parted so  as  they  were  no  more  seen.  And  seven  days 
they  sailed  always  in  that  clear  water. 

1  griffin. 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  65 

And  then  there  came  a  south  wind  and  drove  the  ship 
northward,  whereas  they  saw  an  island  full  dark  and  full 
of  stench  and  smoke,  and  there  they  heard  great  blowing 
and  blasting  of  bellows,  but  they  might  see  nothing,  but 
heard  great  thundering,  whereof  they  were  sore  afraid  and 
blessed  them  oft.  And  soon  after,  there  came  one  start- 
ing out  all  burning  in  fire  and  gazed  full  ghastly  on  them 
with  great  staring  eyes,  of  whom  the  monks  were  aghast, 
and  at  his  departing  from  them  he  made  the  horriblest  cry 
that  might  be  heard.  And  soon  there  came  a  great  num- 
ber of  fiends  and  assailed  them  with  hooks  and  burning 
iron  malles,  which  ran  on  the  water,  following  their  ship 
fast,  in  such  wise  that  it  seemed  all  the  sea  to  be  on  fire. 
But  by  the  pleasure  of  our  Lord,  they  had  no  power  to 
hurt  nor  grieve  them  nor  their  ship  :  wherefore  the  fiends 
began  to  roar  and  cry  and  threw  their  hooks  and  malles 
at  them.  And  they  then  were  sore  afeard  and  prayed  to 
God  for  comfort  and  help,  for  they  saw  the  fiends  all 
about  the  ship,  and  them  seemed  then  all  the  island  and 
the  sea  to  be  on  fire.  And  with  a  sorrowful  cry  all  the 
fiends  departed  from  them  and  returned  to  the  place  that 
they  came  from.  And  then  Saint  Brandon  told  to  them 
that  this  was  a  part  of  hell,  and  therefore  he  charged  them 
to  be  steadfast  in  the  faith,  for  they  should  yet  see  many  a 
dreadful  place  ere  they  came  home  again. 

And  then  came  the  south  wind  and  drove  them  further 
to  the  north,  where  they  saw  an  hill  all  of  fire,  and  a  foul 
smoke  and  stench  coming  from  thence,  and  the  fire  stood 
on  each  side  of  the  hill,  like  a  wall,  all  burning.  And  then 
one  of  his  monks  began  to  cry  and  weep  full  sore,  and 
said  that  his  end  was  come  and  that  he  might  abide  no 


66  SAINTS'  LIVES 

longer  in  the  ship ;  and  anon  he  leapt  out  of  the  ship  into 
the  sea,  and  then  he  cried  and  roared  full  piteously,  curs- 
ing the  time  that  he  was  born  and  also  father  and  mother 
that  begat  him,  because  they  saw  no  better  to  his  correc- 
tion in  his  young  age,  "  for  now  I  must  go  to  perpetual 
pain."  And  then  the  saying  of  the  blessed  Saint  Brandon 
was  verified  that  he  said  to  him  when  he  entered.  There- 
fore it  is  good  a  man  to  do  penance  and  forsake  sin,  for 
the  hour  of  death  is  uncertain. 

And  then  anon  the  wind  turned  into  the  north  and 
drove  the  ship  into  the  south,  which  sailed  seven  days 
continually,  and  they  came  to  a  great  rock  standing  in  the 
sea,  and  thereon  sat  a  naked  man  in  full  great  misery  and 
pain,  for  the  waves  of  the  sea  had  so  beaten  his  body  that 
all  the  flesh  was  gone  off,  and  nothing  left  but  sinews  and 
bare  bones.  And  when  the  waves  were  gone,  there  was  a 
canvas  that  hung  over  his  head  which  beat  his  body  full 
sore  with  the  blowing  of  the  wind ;  and  also  there  were 
two  ox-tongues  and  a  great  stone  that  he  sat  on  which  did 
him  full  great  ease. 

And  then  Saint  Brandon  charged  him  to  tell  him  what 
he  was.  And  he  said  :  "  My  name  is  Judas,  that  sold  our 
Lord  Jesu  Christ  for  thirty  pence,  which  sitteth  here  thus 
wretchedly,  howbeit  I  am  worthy  to  be  in  the  greatest 
pain  that  is.  But  our  Lord  is  so  merciful  that  He  hath 
rewarded  me  better  than  I  have  deserved,  for  of  right  my 
place  is  in  the  burning  hell,  but  I  am  here  but  certain 
times  of  the  year,  that  is,  from  Christmas  to  Twelfth  Day, 
and  from  Easter  till  Whitsuntide  be  past,  and  every  feast- 
ful  day  of  our  Lady,  and  every  Saturday  noon  till  Sunday 
that  evensong  be  done.    But  all  other  times,  I  lie  still  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  67 

hell,  in  full  burning  fire,  with  Pilate,  Herod,  and  Caiaphas  ; 
therefore  accursed  be  the  time  that  ever  I  knew  them." 

And  then  Judas  prayed  Saint  Brandon  to  abide  still 
there  all  that  night,  and  that  he  would  keep  him  there 
still,  that  the  fiends  should  not  fetch  him  to  hell.  And 
Saint  Brandon  said,  "  With  God's  help  thou  shalt  abide 
here  all  this  night."  And  then  he  asked  Judas  what  cloth 
that  was  that  hung  over  his  head,  and  he  said  that  it  was 
a  cloth  that  he  gave  to  a  leper,  which  was  bought  with  the 
money  that  he  stole  from  our  Lord  when  he  bare  His 
purse.  '  Wherefore,  it  doth  to  me  full  great  pain  now  in 
beating  my  face  with  the  blowing  of  the  wind,  and  these 
two  ox-tongues  that  hang  here  above  me,  I  gave  them 
sometime  to  two  priests  to  pray  for  me ;  them  I  bought 
with  mine  own  money,  and  therefore  they  ease  me,  be- 
cause the  fishes  of  the  sea  gnaw  on  them  and  spare  me. 
And  this  stone  that  I  sit  on  lay  sometime  in  a  desolate 
place  where  it  eased  no  man,  and  I  took  it  thence,  and 
laid  it  in  a  foul  way,  where  it  did  much  ease  to  them  that 
went  by  that  way,  and  therefore  it  easeth  me  now,  for 
every  good  deed  shall  be  rewarded  and  every  evil  deed 
shall  be  punished." 

And  the  Sunday,  against  even,  there  came  a  great  mul- 
titude of  fiends,  blasting  and  roaring,  and  they  bade  Saint 
Brandon  go  thence  that  they  might  have  their  servant 
Judas,  "  For  we  dare  not  come  in  the  presence  of  our  mas- 
ter but  if  we  bring  him  to  hell  with  us."  And  then  said 
Saint  Brandon  :  "I  let  not  you  to  do  your  master's  com- 
mandment, but  by  the  power  of  the  Lord  Jesu  Christ,  I 
charge  you  to  leave  him  this  night  till  tomorrow."  They 
said  :  "  How  darest  thou  help  him  that  so  sold  his  master 


68  SAINTS'  LIVES 

for  thirty  pence  to  the  Jews,  and  caused  Him  also  to  die 
the  most  shameful  death  upon  the  cross  ? "  And  then 
Saint  Brandon  charged  the  fiends  by  His  passion  that 
they  should  not  noy  him  that  night.  And  then  the  fiends 
went  their  way,  roaring  and  crying,  towards  hell  to  their 
master  the  great  devil.  And  then  Judas  thanked  Saint 
Brandon  so  ruthfully  that  it  was  a  pity  to  see.  And  on 
the  morrow  the  fiends  came  with  a  horrible  noise,  saying 
that  they  had  that  night  suffered  great  pain  because  they 
brought  not  Judas,  and  said  that  he  should  suffer  double 
pain  the  six  days  following  ;  and  they  took  then  Judas, 
trembling  for  fear,  with  them  to  pain. 

And  after,  Saint  Brandon  sailed  southward  three  days 
and  three  nights,  and  on  the  Friday  they  saw  an  island, 
and  then  Saint  Brandon  began  to  sigh,  and  said :  "  I  see 
the  island  wherein  Saint  Paul  the  hermit  dwelleth  and 
hath  dwelled  there  forty  years  without  meat  and  drink 
ordained  by  man's  hand."  And  when  they  came  to  the 
land,  Saint  Paul  came  and  welcomed  them  humbly.  He 
was  old  and  foregrown1  so  that  no  man  might  see  his 
body.  Of  whom  Saint  Brandon  said,  weeping :  "I  see  a 
man  that  liveth  more  like  an  angel  than  a  man,  where- 
fore we  monks  may  be  ashamed  that  we  live  not  better." 
Then  Saint  Paul  said  to  Saint  Brandon:  "  Thou  art  better 
than  I,  for  our  Lord  hath  shewed  to  thee  more  privities 
than  he  hath  done  to  me ;  wherefore,  thou  oughtest  to 
be  more  praised  than  I." 

To  whom  Saint  Paul  said  :  "  Some  time  I  was  a  monk 
of  Saint  Patrick's  abbey  in  Ireland  and  was  warden  of  the 
place  whereas  men  enter  into  Saint  Patrick's  Purgatory, 

1  with  hair. 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  69 

and  on  a  day  there  came  one  to  me  and  I  asked  him 
what  he  was,  and  he  said  :  'lam  your  abbot,  Patrick, -and 
charge  thee  that  thou  depart  from  hence  tomorn  early  to 
the  sea-side,  and  there  thou  shalt  find  a  ship  into  which 
thou  must  enter,  which  God  has  ordained  for  thee,  whose 
will  thou  must  accomplish.'  And  so  the  next  day  I  arose 
and  went  forth,  and  found  the  ship,  in  which  I  entered, 
and,  by  the  purveyance  of  God,  was  I  brought  into  this 
island  the  seventh  day  after.  And  then  I  left  the  ship  and 
went  to  land,  and  there  I  walked  up  and  down  a  good 
while,  and  then,  by  the  purveyance  of  God,  there  came  an 
otter,  going  upon  his  hinder  feet,  and  brought  me  a  flint 
stone  and  an  iron  to  smite  fire  with,  in  the  two  foreclaws 
of  his  feet,  and  also,  he  had  about  his  neck  great  plenty 
of  fish,  which  he  cast  down  before  me  and  went  his  way. 
And  I  smote  fire,  and  made  a  fire  of  sticks,  and  did  seethe 
the  fish,  by  which  I  lived  three  days.  And  then  the  otter 
came  again  and  brought  me  fish  for  other  three  days,  and 
thus  he  hath  done  this  fifty-one  years,  through  the  grace 
of  God.  And  there  was  a  great  stone  out  of  which  our 
blessed  Lord  made  to  spring  fair  water  clear  and  sweet, 
whereof  I  drink  daily.  And  thus  have  I  lived  one  and 
fifty  years.  I  was  forty  years  old  when  I  came  hither, 
and  am  now  an  hundred  and  eleven  years  old,  and  abide 
till  it  please  our  Lord  Jesu  Christ  to  send  for  me ;  and 
if  it  pleased  Him,  I  would  fain  be  discharged  of  this 
wretched  life." 

And  then  he  bade  Saint  Brandon  to  take  of  the  water 
of  the  well  and  to  carry  it  into  his  ship.  "  for  it  is  time 
that  thou  depart,  for  thou  hast  a  great  journey  to  do,  for 
thou  shalt  sail  to  an  island  which  is  forty  days'  sailing 


JO  SAINTS'  LIVES 

hence,  where  thou  shalt  hold  thine  Easter  like  as  thou 
hast  done  tofore,  whereas  the  tree  of  birds  is.  And  from 
thence  thou  shalt  sail  into  the  Land  of  Behest,  and  shalt 
abide  there  forty  days,  and  after  return  home  into  thy 
country  in  safety." 

And  then  these  holy  men  took  leave  each  of  other,  and 
they  wept  both  full  sore,  and  kissed  each  other.  Then  Saint 
Brandon  entered  into  the  ship,  and  sailed  forty  days  even 
south,  in  full  great  tempest,  and  on  Easter  Even  they  came 
to  their  procurator,  which  made  to  them  good  cheer,  as  he 
had  beforetime.  And  from  thence  they  came  to  the  great 
fish  whereon  they  said  matins  and  mass  on  Easter  Day, 
and  when  the  mass  was  done,  the  fish  began  to  move  and 
swam  forth  fast  into  the  sea,  whereof  the  monks  were  sore 
aghast  which  stood  upon  him,  for  it  was  a  great  marvel  to 
see  such  a  fish,  so  great  as  all  a  country,  for  to  swim  so 
fast  in  the  water,  but,  by  the  will  of  our  Lord,  this  fish 
set  all  the  monks  aland  in  the  Paradise  of  Birds,  all  whole 
and  sound,  and  then  returned  to  the  place  he  came  from. 
And  then  Saint  Brandon  and  his  monks  thanked  our  Lord 
of  their  deliverance  of  the  great  fish,  and  kept  their  Easter- 
tide till  Trinity  Sunday,  like  as  they  had  done  beforetime. 

And  after  this  they  took  their  ship  and  sailed  east  forty 
days,  and  at  the  forty  days'  end  it  began  to  hail  right  fast, 
and  therewith  came  a  dark  mist  which  lasted  long  after, 
which  feared  Saint  Brandon  and  his  monks,  and  they 
prayed  to  our  Lord  to  keep  and  help  them.  And  then 
anon  came  their  procurator  and  bade  them  to  be  of  good 
cheer,  for  they  were  come  into  the  Land  of  Behest. 

And  soon  after,  that  mist  passed  away,  and  anon  they 
saw  the  fairest  country  eastward  that  any  man  might  see, 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  BRANDON  71 

and  it  was  so  clear  and  bright  that  it  was  a  heavenly  sight 
to  behold,  and  all  the  trees  were  charged  with  ripe  fruit, 
and  herb  full  of  flowers.  In  which  land  they  walked  forty 
days,  but  they  could  not  see  none  end  of  that  land,  and 
there  was  always  day  and  never  night,  and  the  land  tem- 
perate, ne  too  hot  ne  too  cold. 

And  at  the  last  they  came  to  a  fair  river,  but  they  durst 
not  go  over,  and  there  came  to  them  a  fair  young  man, 
and  welcomed  them  courteously  and  called  each  by  name, 
and  did  great  reverence  to  Saint  Brandon.  And  he  said 
to  them  :  "  Be  ye  now  joyful,  for  this  is  the  land  that 
ye  have  sought,  but  our  Lord  will  that  ye  depart  hence 
hastily,  and  He  will  show  you  more  of  His  secrets,  when 
ye  come  again  into  the  sea,  and  our  Lord  will  that  ye 
lade  your  ship  with  the  fruit  of  this  land,  and  hie  you 
hence,  for  ye  may  no  longer  abide  here,  but  thou  shalt 
sail  again  to  thine  own  country,  and  soon  after  thou  com- 
est  home  thou  shalt  die.  And  this  water  that  thou  seest 
here  departeth  the  world  asunder,  for  on  that  other  side  of 
this  water  may  no  man  come  that  is  in  this  life.  And  the 
fruit  that  ye  see  here  is  always  thus  ripe  every  time  of  the 
year ;  and  always  it  is  here  light  as  ye  now  see.  And  he 
that  keepeth  our  Lord's  hests  at  all  times  shall  see  this 
land  or  he  pass  out  of  this  world." 

And  then  Saint  Brandon  and  his  monks  took  of  that 
fruit  as  much  as  they  would,  and  also  took  with  them 
great  plenty  of  precious  stones,  and  then  took  their  leave, 
and  went  to  ship  weeping  sore  because  they  might  no 
longer  abide  there.  And  then  they  took  their  ship  and 
came  home  into  Ireland  in  safety,  whom  their  brethren 
received  with  great  joy,  giving  thankings  to  our  Lord, 


72  SAINTS'  LIVES 

which  had  kept  them  all  these  seven  years  from  many  a 
peril  and  brought  them  home  in  safety,  to  whom  be  given 
honour  and  glory,  world  without  end.    Amen. 

And  soon  after,  this  holy  man,  Saint  Brandon,  waxed 
feeble  and  sick  and  had  but  little  joy  of  this  world,  but 
ever  after  his  joy  and  mind  was  in  the  joys  of  heaven. 
And  in  a  short  time  after,  he,  being  full  of  virtues,  de- 
parted out  of  this  life  to  everlasting  life,  and  was  worship- 
fully  buried  in  a  fair  abbey,  which  he  himself  founded, 
where  our  Lord  shewed  for  this  holy  saint  many  fair 
miracles.  Wherefore  let  us  devoutly  pray  to  this  holy 
saint  that  he  pray  for  us  to  our  Lord  that  He  have  mercy 
on  us ;  to  whom  be  given  laud  and  honour  and  empire, 
world  without  end.    Amen. 

Translated  by  William  Caxton 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  MARGARET1 

Here  folloiveth  the  glorious  life  and  passion  of  the  blessed  virgin 
and  martyr  Saint  Margaret,  and  first  of  her  name 

Margaret  is  said  of  a  precious  gem,  or  ouche,  that  is 
named  a  margaret.  Which  gem  is  white,  little,  and  vir- 
tuous. So  the  blessed  Margaret  was  white  by  virginity, 
little  by  humility,  and  virtuous  by  operation  of  miracles. 
The  virtue  of  this  stone  is  said  to  be  against  effusion  of 
blood,  against  passion  of  the  heart,  and  to  confortation  of 
the  spirit.  In  like  wise  the  blessed  Margaret  had  virtue 
against  shedding  of  her  blood  by  constancy,  for  in  her 
martyrdom  she  was  most  constant,  and  also  against  the 
passion  of  the  heart,  that  is  to  say,  temptation  of  the  devil. 
For  she  overcame  the  devil  by  victory,  and  to  the  conforta- 
tion of  the  spirit  by  doctrine,  for  by  her  doctrine  she  com- 
forted much  people,  and  converted  to  the  faith  of  Christ. 
Theoteinus,  a  learned  man,  wrote  her  legend. 

The  holy  Saint  Margaret  was  of  the  city  of  Antioch, 
daughter  of  Theodosius,  patriarch  and  prince  of  the  idols 
of  paynims.  And  she  was  delivered  to  a  nurse  for  to  be 
kept.  And  when  she  came  to  perfect  age  she  was  baptized, 
wherefor  she  was  in  great  hate  of  her  father. 

On  a  certain  day,  when  she  was  fifteen  years  of  age 
and  kept  the  sheep  of  her  nurse  with  other  maidens,  the 
provost  Olybrius  passed  by  the  way  whereas  she  was,  and 
considered  in  her  so  great  beauty  and  fairness,  that  anon 

1  See  Notes. 
73 


74  SAINTS'  LIVES 

he  burned  in  her  love,  and  sent  his  servants  and  bade 
them  take  her  and  bring  her  to  him.  "  For  if  she  be  free, 
I  shall  take  her  to  my  wife,  and  if  she  be  bond,  I  shall 
make  her  my  concubine."  And  when  she  was  presented 
tofore  him  he  demanded  her  of  her  lineage,  name,  and 
religion.  And  she  answered  that  she  was  of  noble  lineage, 
and  for  her  name  Margaret,  and  Christian  in  religion.  To 
whom  the  provost  said :  "The  two  first  things  be  convenient 
to  thee,  that  is  that  thou  art  noble  and  art  called  Margaret, 
which  is  a  most  fair  name,  but  the  third  appertaineth  noth- 
ing to  thee,  that  so  fair  a  maid  and  so  noble  should  have 
a  God  crucified."  To  whom  she  said :  "  How  knowest  thou 
that  Christ  was  crucified  ? "  He  answered  :  "By  the  books 
of  Christian  men."  To  whom  Margaret  said:  "O  what  shame 
is  it  to  you,  when  you  read  the  pain  of  Christ  and  the 
glory,  and  believe  one  thing  and  deny  another."  And  she 
said  and  affirmed  Him  to  be  crucified  by  His  will  for  our 
redemption,  and  now  liveth  ever  in  bliss.  And  then  the 
provost,  being  wroth,  commanded  her  to  be  put  in  prison. 
And  the  next  day  following  he  commanded  that  she  should 
be  brought  to  him,  and  then  said  to  her :  "  O  good  maid, 
have  pity  on  thy  beauty,  and  worship  our  gods,  that  thou 
mayest  be  well."  To  whom  she  said :  "I  worship  Him  that 
maketh  the  earth  to  tremble,  whom  the  sea  dreadeth  and 
the  winds  and  creatures  obey."  To  whom  the  provost  said: 
'  But  if  thou  consent  to  me  I  shall  make  thy  body  to  be  all 
to-torn."  To  whom  Margaret  said:  "Christ  gave  Himself 
over  to  the  death  for  me,  and  I  desire  gladly  to  die  for 
Christ."  Then  the  provost  commanded  her  to  be  hanged 
in  an  instrument  to  torment  the  people,  and  to  be  cruelly 
first  beaten  with  rods,  and  with  iron  combs  to  rend  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  MARGARET  75 

draw  her  flesh  to  the  bones,  insomuch  that  the  blood  ran 
about  out  of  her  body,  like  as  a  stream  runneth  out  of  a 
fresh  springing  well.  They  that  were  there  wept,  and 
said  :  "O  Margaret,  verily  we  be  sorry  for  thee,  which  see 
thy  body  so  foul,  and  so  cruelly  torn  and  rent.  O  how  thy 
most  beauty  hast  thou  lost  for  thy  incredulity  and  misbelief  ! 
Now  believe,  and  thou  shalt  live."  Then  said  she  to  them : 
"  O  evil  counsellors,  depart  ye,  and  go  from  me  ;  this  cruel 
torment  of  my  flesh  is  salvation  of  my  soul."  Then  she 
said  to  the  provost:  "Thou  shameless  hound  and  insatiable 
lion,  thou  hast  power  over  my  flesh,  but  Christ  reserveth 
my  soul."  The  provost  covered  his  face  with  his  mantle, 
for  he  might  not  see  so  much  effusion  of  blood,  and  then 
commanded  that  she  should  be  taken  down,  and  to  shut 
her  fast  in  prison,  and  there  was  seen  a  marvellous  bright- 
ness in  the  prison,  of  the  keepers. 

And  whilst  she  was  in  prison,  she  prayed  our  Lord  that 
the  fiend  that  had  fought  with  her,  He  would  visibly  show 
him  unto  her.  And  then  appeared  a  horrible  dragon  and 
assailed  her,  and  would  have  devoured  her,  but  she  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  anon  he  vanished  away.  And 
in  another  place  it  is  said  that  he  swallowed  her  into  his 
belly,  she  making  the  sign  of  the  cross.  And  the  belly 
brake  asunder,  and  so  she  issued  out  all  whole  and  sound. 

This  swallowing  and  breaking  of  the  belly  of  the  dragon 
is  said  that  it  is  apocryphal. 

After  this  the  devil  appeared  to  her  in  likeness  of  a 
man  for  to  deceive  her.  And  when  she  saw  him,  she  went 
to  prayer  and  after  arose,  and  the  fiend  came  to  her,  and 
took  her  by  the  hand  and  said  :  "  It  sufficeth  to  thee  that 
thou  hast  done,  but  now  cease  as  to  my  person."    She 


76  SAINTS'  LIVES 

caught  him  by  the  head  and  threw  him  to  the  ground 
and  set  her  right  foot  on  his  neck,  saying:  "Lie  still,  thou 
fiend,  under  the  feet  of  a  woman."  The  devil  then  cried  : 
"  O  blessed  Margaret,  I  am  overcome.  If  a  young  man  had 
overcome  me  I  had  not  recked,  but  alas !  I  am  overcome 
of  a  tender  virgin  ;  wherefore  I  make  the  more  sorrow, 
for  thy  father  and  mother  have  been  my  good  friends." 
She  then  constrained  him  to  tell  why  he  came  to  her,  and 
he  answered  that  he  came  to  her  to  counsel  her  for  to 
obey  the  desire  and  request  of  the  provost.  Then  she  con- 
strained him  to  say  wherefore  he  tempted  so  much  and 
so  often  Christian  people.  To  whom  he  answered  that 
naturally  he  hated  virtuous  men,  and  though  we  be  oft 
put  aback  from  them,  yet  our  desire  is  much  to  exclude 
them  from  the  felicity  that  they  fell  from,  for  we  may 
never  obtain  ne  recover  our  bliss  that  we  have  lost.  And 
she  then  demanded  what  he  was,  and  he  answered  :  "I 
am  Veltis,  one  of  them  whom  Solomon  closed  in  a  vessel 
of  brass.  And  after  his  death  it  happed  that  they  of  Baby- 
lon found  this  vessel,  and  supposed  to  have  founden  great 
treasure  therein,  and  brake  the  vessel ;  and  then  a  great 
multitude  of  us  devils  flew  out  and  filled  full  the  air  alway, 
awaiting  and  espying  where  we  may  assail  rightful  men." 
And  when  he  had  said  thus,  she  took  off  her  foot  and  said 
to  him :  "  Flee  hence,  thou  wretched  fiend."  And  anon  the 
earth  opened,  and  the  fiend  sank  in.  Then  she  was  sure, 
for  when  she  had  overcome  the  master,  she  might  lightly 
overcome  the  minister. 

Then  the  next  day  following,  when  all  the  people  was 
assembled,  she  was  presented  tofore  the  judge.  And  she, 
not  doing  sacrifice  to  their  false  gods,  was  cast  into  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  SAINT  MARGARET  77 

fire,  and  her  body  broiled  with  burning  brands,  in  such 
wise  that  the  people  marvelled  that  so  tender  a  maid  might 
suffer  so  many  torments.  And  after  that,  they  put  her  in 
a  great  vessel  full  of  water,  fast  bounden,  that  by  changing 
of  the  torments,  the  sorrow  and  feeling  of  the  pain  should 
be  the  more.  But  suddenly  the  earth  trembled,  and  the 
air  was  hideous,  and  the  blessed  virgin  without  any  hurt 
issued  out  of  the  water,  saying  to  our  Lord  :  "  I  beseech 
thee,  my  Lord,  that  this  water  may  be  to  me  the  font  of 
baptism  to  everlasting  life."  And  anon  there  was  heard 
great  thunder,  and  a  dove  descended  from  heaven  and  set 
a  golden  crown  on  her  head.  Then  five  thousand  men 
believed  in  our  Lord,  and  for  Christ's  love  they  all  were 
beheaded  by  the  commandment  of  the  provost  Olybrius, 
that  time  in  Campolymeath,  the  city  of  Aurelia. 

Then  Olybrius,  seeing  the  faith  of  the  holy  Margaret 
immoveable,  and  also  fearing  that  others  should  be  con- 
verted to  the  Christian  faith  by  her,  gave  sentence  and 
commanded  that  she  should  be  beheaded.  Then  she 
prayed  to  one  Malchus  that  should  behead  her,  that  she 
might  have  space  to  pray.  And  that  got,  she  prayed  to 
our  Lord,  saying :  "  Father  Almighty,  I  yield  to  Thee 
thankings  that  Thou  hast  suffered  me  to  come  to  this 
glory,  beseeching  Thee  to  pardon  them  that  pursue  me. 
And  I  beseech  Thee,  good  Lord,  that  of  Thy  abundant 
grace,  Thou  wilt  grant  unto  all  them  that  write  my  passion, 
read  it,  or  hear,  and  to  them  that  remember  me,  that  they 
may  deserve  to  have  plain  remission  and  forgiveness  of  all 
their  sins.  And  also,  good  Lord,  if  any  woman  with  child, 
travailing  in  any  place,  call  on  me,  that  Thou  wilt  keep  her 
from  peril,  and  that  the  child  may  be  delivered  from  her 


78  SAINTS'  LIVES 

belly  without  any  hurt  of  his  members."  And  when  she 
had  finished  her  prayer  there  was  a  voice  heard  from 
heaven,  saying  that  her  prayers  were  heard  and  granted 
and  that  the  gates  of  heaven  were  open  and  abode  for  her, 
and  bade  her  come  into  the  country  of  everlasting  rest. 
Then  she,  thanking  our  Lord,  arose  up,  and  bade  the 
hangman  accomplish  the  commandment  of  the  provost. 
To  whom  the  hangman  said :  "  God  forbid  that  I  should 
slay  thee,  virgin  of  Christ."  To  whom  she  said:  "If  thou 
do  it  not  thou  mayest  have  no  part  with  me."  Then  he, 
being  afraid  and  trembling,  smote  off  her  head,  and  he, 
falling  down  at  her  feet,  gave  up  the  ghost. 

Then  Theotinus  took  up  the  holy  body,  and  bare  it  into 
Antioch,  and  buried  it  in  the  house  of  a  noble  woman  and 
widow  named  Sincletia.  And  thus  this  blessed  and  holy 
virgin,  Saint  Margaret,  suffered  death,  and  received  the 
crown  of  martyrdom  the  thirteenth  kalends  of  August,  as 
is  founden  in  her  story ;  and  it  is  read  in  another  place 
that  it  was  the  third  ides  of  July.  Of  this  virgin  writeth 
an  holy  man  and  saith  :  "  The  holy  and  blessed  Margaret 
was  full  of  the  dread  of  God,  sad,  stable,  and  worshipful 
in  religion,  arrayed  with  compunction,  laudable  in  honesty, 
and  singular  in  patience,  and  nothing  was  found  in  her 
contrary  to  Christian  religion ;  hateful  to  her  father,  and 
beloved  of  our  Lord  Jesu  Christ."  Then  let  us  remember 
this  holy  virgin  that  she  pray  for  us  in  our  needs. 

Translated  by  William  Caxton 


PIOUS  TALES 

A  MIRACLE   OF  GOD'S   BODY 

A   MIRACLE   OF  THE  VIRGIN 

THE   TRANSLATION   OF  SAINT  THOMAS   OF 
CANTERBURY 


A  MIRACLE  OF  GOD'S   BODY1 

There  was  a  man  beyond  the  sea,  a  miner  who  lived  in 
a  city  and  who  sought  under  the  earth  for  the  stones  out 
of  which  men  get  silver  and  gold.  He  worked  and  dug  in 
the  hill,  and  a  dreadful  thing  happened  to  him  :  a  large  part 
of  the  mine  fell  down,  closing  him  in.  His  fellows,  who 
were  loyal  to  him,  believed  that  he  was  dead,  so  they  took 
counsel  together  and  went  to  tell  his  wife.  This  woman 
bewailed  her  husband  sorely  (would  God  there  were  many 
such  women  !).  She  helped  his  soul  in  all  ways  by  giving 
alms  and  offerings.  She  offered  for  his  sake  at  the  altar  a 
pitcher  full  of  wine  and  a  fair  loaf,  also,  every  day  during 
a  whole  twelve  months,  except  on  one  day.  Few  such  women 
we  find  now,  who  are  so  kind  to  their  husbands,  but  this 
wife  with  all  her  power  wrought  for  him  both  day  and  night. 

It  happened  at  the  end  of  the  twelve  months  that  his 
fellows  went  to  the  hill  and  came  to  the  very  place  where 
they  had  left  their  companion  at  work.  They  began  right 
there  and,  piercing  through,  found  the  man  in  good 
estate,  alive,  without  any  injury  or  wound.  Each  one  was 
filled  with  amazement,  and  there  was  good  reason  why 
the  men  should  be  in  doubt  as  to  how  he  had  lived  all 
that  year.  Then  he  told  them  how  he  had  lived  there 
alone.  :<  I  have  lived  a  gracious  life  through  the  courtesy 
of  my  wife,  who  every  day  has  sent  me  wine  and  bread, 
except  on  one  day,  when  I  ate  nothing." 

1  See  Notes. 
81 


82  PIOUS  TALES 

They  led  the  man  in  to  the  town  and  told  the  miracle 
everywhere  through  the  city  and  through  the  country.  At 
last  it  happened  that  he  mentioned  the  name  of  the  day 
when  he  fasted,  and  his  wife  said  the  same  thing,  —  the 
day  she  made  no  offering  was  Good  Friday.  Now  you  may 
hear  how  a  devout  deed  of  alms  will  feed  a  man,  and  so 
you  may  understand  that  God  is  always  pleased  with  good 
offerings. 

In  spite  of  this  tale,  trust  not  your  wives,  nor  your  chil- 
dren, but  make  your  offerings  yourselves.  So  kind  a 
woman  as  I  have  told  about  does  not  live  now,  you  may 
be  sure.  And  no  clerk  who  reads  this  will  ever  find  one 
of  such  good  deeds.  You  men  who  are  now  present  and 
hear  about  the  sacrament,  know  that  the  sacrament  on  the 
altar  has  power  over  all  things,  as  I  have  shown  to  the 
ignorant  but  not  to  the  learned,  for  the  clerks  know  it  well. 
Let  us  pray  our  Creator  that  our  Saviour,  the  Sacrament, 
will  save  us  body  and  soul,  and  grant  that  we  may  love  Him 

and  be  His  forever. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


^ 


A  MIRACLE  OF  THE  VIRGIN1 

Lord,  Maker  of  all  things,  Almighty  God  in  majesty, 
that  ever,  without  beginning,  wert  and  art  and  shall  be, 
grant  us  both  strength  and  opportunity  so  to  serve  Thy 
pleasure  that  we  may,  through  Thy  grace,  dwell  with  Thee 
for  ever  and  aye  ! 

We  ought  to  bear  well  in  mind  those  miracles  of  our 
Lady  which  are  written  in  true  story,  showing  how  helpful 
she  ever  is  to  mankind.  Once  upon  a  time  it  happened 
in  a  city,  —  hearken  well  and  ye  may  hear,  —  when  Jews 
were  wont  to  be  together  among  Christians,  Christians 
dwelt  in  one  half  of  the  city,  and  the  Jews  were  forced  to 
live  in  one  street.  The  Christian  children  had  made  for 
themselves  a  pleasant  place  in  a  field,  and  there  a  Jew's 
child  often  played  with  them.  The  child's  father  took  no 
heed  of  this  and  never  cast  an  eye  upon  him,  therefore 
the  child  came  and  went  whenever  he  chose  to  play.  So 
often  did  they  play  together  that  the  Jew's  son  learned 
their  games  and  was  just  like  one  of  the  Christian  chil- 
dren, loved  and  welcomed  by  them. 

At  one  Easter  time,  which  the  Christians  kept  with  great 
solemnity,  a  beautiful  minster  had  been  completed  in  the 
midst  of  the  city,  and  to  it  the  Christian  folk  went  to  hear 
both  matins  and  mass,  as,  by  Christian  rule,  is  usual  for 
both  the  high  and  the  low.  Every  one  in  best  array,  both 
husbands  and  wives,  attended.   The  children  followed  their 

1  See  Notes. 
83 


84  PIOUS  TALES 

fathers,  as  they  were  wont,  and  the  Jew's  child  with  right 
good  cheer  was  happy  to  go  with  them.  When  he  was  well 
within  the  church,  he  thought  he  had  never  been  so  glad 
as  he  was  at  that  seemly  sight,  such  as  he  had  never  seen 
before  —  both  lamps  and  tapers  burning  brightly,  altars 
wonderfully  ornamented,  and  beautifully  wrought  gold 
images  of  many  good  saints. 

In  a  chair  sat  a  comely  Queen,  all  decorated  with  gold  ; 
upon  her  arm  she  bore  a  blissful  Babe,  in  kingly  crown 
as  He  should  be.  The  child  looked  long  at  that  Lady  and 
at  that  blissful  Babe,  and  noted  how  people  told  their  beads 
before  them,  as  Christian  folk  do.  The  Jew's  child  felt 
such  pleasure  in  all  the  sights  he  saw  and  thought  them 
all  so  sweet,  that  he  was  almost  ravished  with  joy.  When 
high  mass  of  the  day  was  done,  the  priest  bade  all  men 
kneel  down  ;  the  Jew's  child  took  heed  of  this  and  knelt 
among  the  Christians.  Although  he  was  pushed  about  by 
the  crowd,  he  was  not  afraid,  and  he  spared  no  pains  until 
he  too  received  the  sacrament.  Of  such  a  child  no  one 
took  notice.  When  all  things  were  brought  to  an  end, 
and  every  Christian  drew  towards  home,  the  Jew,  seeking 
his  child  throughout  the  town,  saw  him  come  from  the 
church.  He  asked  his  son  where  he  had  been  while  he 
had  sought  him  all  that  day,  and  the  boy  told  the  whole 
story  of  what  he  had  done  and  seen.  The  father  then 
waxed  mad  with  anger  and  said  at  once,  "  Thou  gettest 
thy  reward";  and  going  to  his  hot  oven  that  gleamed 
as  does  a  glowing  coal,  he  cast  the  child  into  it,  in- 
tending to  burn  him  to  ashes.  With  the  mouth-stone  he 
sealed  the  oven,  and  thought  that  the  truth  would  not 
be  revealed. 


A  MIRACLE  OF  THE  VIRGIN  85 

When  his  mother  heard  this,  in  the  very  place  where  she 
stood  she  fell  into  a  frenzy  and  for  woe  became  as  if  mad. 
Always  crying  out,  she  went  tearing  her  hair,  in  every 
street  in  that  city,  now  up,  now  down,  everywhere,  and 
folk  wondered  about  her  and  felt  great  pity.  The  mayor 
and  the  bailiffs  of  the  town,  when  they  heard  that  cry, 
halted  her  and  made  inquiry  as  to  why  she  cried  so  wildly 
and  put  people  in  such  fear  and  sorrowed  so,  especially 
on  Easter  Day.  As  soon  as  she  could  cease  weeping,  this 
woful  mother  answered,  "  Sirs,  ye  have  this  city  to  keep ; 
as  lords  ye  must  needs  execute  law.  Alas !  alas !  I  am 
destroyed,  and  must  have  help  of  you ;  I  pray  for  a  just 
judgment ;  my  cause  I  shall  prove  before  you.  My  hus- 
band has"  burned  my  child  —  shut  him  up  in  a  glowing 
oven!    Go,  see,  sirs,  and  I  will  give  you  gold  enough." 

Both  mayor  and  bailiffs,  together  with  the  people,  went 
to  the  Jew's  oven,  and  as  soon  as  they  had  arrived, 
the  mayor  commanded,  "  Put  down  the  stone."  Then 
every  man  might  easily  see  how  the  oven  roof,  that  was 
round,  was  in  appearance  like  glowing  glass  from  roof  to 
ground.  The  child  sat  there  whole  and  sound,  not  harmed 
in  hand  nor  hair,  amidst  the  coals  which  were  all  about, 
just  as  if  he  sat  in  a  cool  arbor.  The  child's  mother,  when 
she  saw  that,  thought  she  had  never  been  so  glad ;  into 
the  oven  she  started  towards  him,  and  soon  had  him  out 
with  her.  And  all  the  people  present  there  wondered 
at  that  strange  sight  and  praised  God  with  good  intent, 
for  a  miracle  is  more  than  man's  might.  They  asked  him, 
with  one  consent,  how  it  was  that  he  had  had  no  harm 
among  the  brands  that  burned  so  brightly,  and  the  child 
answered  at  once  : 


86  PIOUS  TALES 

"  Never  in  all  my  life  have  I  had  such  great  happiness 
as  came  to  me  after  I  was  put  into  the  oven.  Both  brands 
and  coals,  in  truth,  that  were  beneath  my  feet,  like  fair 
flowers,  like  special  spices,  seemed  sweet  to  me.  The  bliss- 
ful Queen,  that  Maiden  mild,  who  sits  in  church  on  her 
throne,  with  that  comely  King,  her  Child,  that  blissful 
Babe  that  she  holds  on  her  bosom,  shielded  me  from 
all  harm,  from  coals  and  brands  that  burned  so  clearly, 
from  all  the  flames  that  flowed  so  wildly,  and  they  could 
never  come  near  me." 

Then  men  and  women,  all  who  were  there,  both  small 
and  great,  low  and  high,  praised  God  heartily  for  this  mir- 
acle. The  Jewess  through  her  son's  word  was  converted 
to  Christ,  anon,  and  the  child  and  all  the  Jews  accepted 
the  law  of  Christ.  The  mayor  himself  examined  the  Jew 
to  judge  of  his  trespass,  and  twelve  men  were  sworn  to 
speak  the  truth  and  to  give  their  verdict  upon  the  case. 
They  took  counsel  together,  and  came  back  with  one  con- 
sent. The  words  of  their  verdict  were,  "In  that  same  oven 
he  shall  be  burned." 

Thus  is  ended  this  story  of  the  miracle  written  above. 

Grant  us  joy  in  heaven  on  high,  Lord  Jesus,  for  Thy 

Mother's  love.    Amen. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


THE  TRANSLATION  OF   SAINT  THOMAS  OF 
CANTERBURY x 

The  translation  of  the  glorious  martyr,  Saint  Thomas 
of  Canterbury,  we  shall  shortly  rehearse  unto  the  laud  and 
praising  of  Almighty  God,  then  in  the  fiftieth  year  after 
his  passion,  which  was  the  year  of  jubilee,  that  is,  of  re- 
mission. For,  of  ancient  time,  the  fiftieth  year  was  called 
the  year  of  the  jubilee  of  pardon  and  remission,  and  is 
yet  used  among  religious  men.  For  when  a  religious 
man  hath  continued  in  his  order  fifty  years,  then  he  shall 
be  admitted  to  make  his  jubilee,  and  that  made,  he  is  par- 
doned and  hath  remission  of  many  observances  that  tofore 
he  was  bounden  unto.  Then  in  this  year  of  jubilee  from 
his  passion,  was  the  solemnity  of  his  translation  accom- 
plished, in  the  time  of  Honorius,  the  third  pope  of  that 
name.  The  which  granted  yearly  remissions  and  indul- 
gences so  great  and  large,  that  tofore  in  no  time  of  mind 
hath  been  seen  any  popes  to  have  granted  and  given  like. 
Then  let  us  call  to  mind  that  on  a  Tuesday  his  translation 
was  accomplished.  On  the  Tuesday  happed  to  him  many 
things.  On  a  Tuesday  he  was  born,  on  a  Tuesday  he  was 
exiled,  on  a  Tuesday  our  Lord  appeared  to  him  at  Pount- 
ney  in  France,  saying :  "Thomas,  my  church  shall  be  glo- 
rified in  thy  blood."  On  a  Tuesday  he  returned  from  his 
exile,  and  on  a  Tuesday  he  suffered  martyrdom. 

1  See  Notes. 
87 


88  PIOUS  TALES 

Then  how  this  holy  translation  was  fulfilled  now  ye  shall 
hear.  The  reverend  father  in  God,  Stephen,  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  Richard,  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  Walter,  the 
prior  of  the  same  place,  with  the  convent,  with  spiritual 
songs  and  devout  hymns,  when  it  was  night,  went  to  the 
sepulchre  of  this  holy  martyr,  and  all  that  night  and  day 
of  his  translation  they  persevered  in  prayers  and  fastings. 
And  after  midnight,  four  priests,  elected  and  thereto 
chosen,  approaching  to  his  body,  took  up  the  holy  head 
with  great  devotion  and  reverence,  and  unto  them  all 
offered  it  for  to  kiss  it.  Then  the  archbishop  and  all  the 
others  made  great  honour  to  it,  and  took  all  the  relics  of 
the  precious  body,  and  laid  them  in  a  chest,  and  shut  it 
fast  with  iron  locks,  and  set  it  in  a  place  for  to  be  kept 
unto  the  day  that  the  translation  should  be  solemnized. 
The  day  then  of  this  holy  translation  being  come,  there 
were  present  a  great  innumerable  multitude  of  people,  as 
well  of  rich  as  of  poor.  There  was  Pandulphus,  a  legate 
of  our  holy  father  the  pope,  and  two  archbishops  of  France, 
of  Rheims  and  Aries,  with  many  other  bishops  and  abbots, 
and  also  King  Harry  the  Third  with  earls  and  barons, 
which  king  himself  took  the  chest  upon  his  shoulders, 
and  with  the  other  prelates  and  lords,  brought  it  with  great 
joy  and  honour  in  to  the  place  where  it  is  now  worshipped, 
and  was  laid  in  a  fair  and  much  rich  shrine.  At  whose 
holy  translation  were  showed,  by  the  merits  of  this  holy 
martyr,  Saint  Thomas,  many  miracles.  To  blind  men  was 
given  their  sight,  to  deaf  men  their  hearing,  to  dumb  men 
their  speech,  and  to  dead  men  was  restored  life. 

Among  all  others  there  was  a  man,  because  of  great 
devotion  that  he  had  to  be  at  this  holy  translation  and 


THE  TRANSLATION  OF  SAINT  THOMAS      89 

visit  the  holy  martyr,  which  came  to  the  bridge  at  Brent- 
ford by  London ;  and  when  he  was  in  the  middle  of  the 
bridge,  meeting  there  one,  was  cast  into  the  water.  This 
man,  not  forgetting  himself,  called  Saint  Thomas  unto  his 
help,  and  besought  him  not  to  suffer  his  pilgrim  to  perish, 
ne  to  be  there  drowned.  And  five  times  he  sank  down 
to  the  ground,  and  five  times  arose  above  the  water,  and 
then  he  was  cast  to  the  dry  ground.  Then  he  affirmed 
that  he  received  no  water  into  his  mouth,  nor  into  his  ears 
that  did  to  him  grievance  nor  hurt  that  he  felt,  save  in  his 
falling  he  felt  in  his  mouth  a  little  salt  water ;  and  added 
more  thereto,  saying  that,  when  he  sank,  a  bishop  held 
him  up  that  he  might  not  sink. 

This  holy  translation  was  done  and  accomplished  the 
year  of  our  Lord  twelve  hundred  and  twenty,  in  the  nones 
of  July,  at  three  o'clock,  in  the  fiftieth  year  after  his  passion. 
For  this  glorious  saint  our  Lord  hath  showed  many  great 
miracles,  as  well  by  his  life,  as  after  his  death  and  martyr- 
dom. For  a  little  tofore  his  death  a  young  man  died  and 
was  raised  again  by  miracle.  And  he  said  that  he  was  led 
to  see  the  holy  order  of  saints  in  heaven,  and  there  he 
saw  a  seat  void,  and  he  asked  for  whom  it  was,  and  it  was 
answered  to  him  that  it  was  kept  for  the  great  Bishop  of 
England,  Saint  Thomas  of  Canterbury.  There  was  also  a 
simple  priest  that  daily  sang  no  other  mass  but  of  our 
Lady,  whereof  he  was  put  to  Saint  Thomas  his  ordinary, 
whom  accused,  he  opposed,  and  found  him  full  simple  of 
conning,  wherefore  he  suspended  him,  and  inhibited  him 
his  mass.  Wherefore  this  priest  was  full  sorry,  and  prayed 
humbly  to  our  blessed  Lady  that  he  might  be  restored 
again  to  say  his  mass.  And  then  our  blessed  Lady  appeared 


90  PIOUS  TALES 

to  this  priest,  and  bade  him  go  to  Saint  Thomas,  and  bid 
him  "  by  the  token  that  the  lady  whom  thou  servest  hath 
sewed  his  shirt  of  hair  with  red  silk,  which  he  shall  find 
there  as  he  laid  it,  that  he  give  thee  leave  to  sing  mass, 
and  assoil  thee  of  his  suspending  and  thine  inhibiting, 
and  restore  thee  again  to  thy  service."  And  when  Saint 
Thomas  heard  this  he  was  greatly  abashed,  and  went  and 
found  like  as  the  priest  had  said,  and  then  assoiled  him  to 
say  mass  as  he  did  before,  commanding  him  to  keep  this 
thing  secret  as  long  as  he  lived. 

There  was  a  lady  in  England  that  desired  greatly  to 
have  grey  eyes,  for  she  had  a  conceit  that  she  should  be 
the  more  beauteous  in  the  sight  of  the  people ;  and  only 
for  that  cause  she  made  a  vow  to  visit  Saint  Thomas  upon 
her  bare  feet.  And  when  she  came  thither,  and  had  de- 
voutly made  her  prayers  to  have  her  desire,  suddenly  she 
wax  stark  blind,  and  then  she  perceived  that  she  had 
offended  and  displeased  our  Lord  in  that  request,  and 
cried  God  mercy  of  that  offence,  and  besought  him  full 
meekly  to  be  restored  of  her  sight  again.  And  by  the 
merits  of  the  blessed  Saint  Thomas  she  was  restored  to 
her  sight  again,  and  was  glad  to  have  her  old  eyes,  and 
returned  home  again,  and  lived  holy  to  her  life's  end. 
Also  there  was  a  lord's  carver  that  brought  water  to  him  at 
his  table,  to  whom  the  lord  said  :  "  If  thou  hast  ever  stolen 
anything  of  mine,  I  pray  God  and  Saint  Thomas  that  thou 
have  no  water  in  the  bason,"  and  suddenly  it  was  all  void 
of  the  water  and  dry,  and  there  was  he  proved  a  thief. 

There  was  a  tame  bird  kept  in  a  cage,  which  was  learned 
to  speak.  And  on  a  time  he  fled  out  of  the  cage  and  flew 
into  the  field ;  and  there  came  a  sparrowhawk  and  would 


THE  TRANSLATION  OF  SAINT  THOMAS       91 

have  taken  this  bird  and  pursued  after.  And  the  bird,  being 
in  great  dread,  cried  :  "  Saint  Thomas  !  help!"  like  as  he 
had  heard  others  speak,  and  the  sparrowhawk  fell  down 
dead,  and  the  bird  escaped  harmless. 

Also  there  was  a  man  that  Saint  Thomas  loved  much 
in  his  days,  and  he  fell  in  a  grievous  sickness,  wherefore 
he  went  to  the  tomb  of  Saint  Thomas  to  pray  for  his 
health  ;  and  anon  he  had  his  desire  and  was  all  whole.  And 
as  he  turned  homeward,  being  all  whole,  then  he  began  to 
dread  lest  this  health  should  not  be  the  most  profitable  for 
his  soul.  Then  he  returned  again  to  the  tomb  of  Saint 
Thomas,  and  prayed  if  his  health  were  not  profitable  to  his 
soul  that  his  old  sickness  might  come  again  to  him.  And 
it  came  anon  again  to  him,  and  endured  unto  his  life's  end. 
And  in  like  wise  there  was  a  devout  blind  man  which  had 
his  sight  restored  to  him  again  by  the  merit  of  Saint 
Thomas ;  but  after,  he  repented  him,  for  he  could  not  be 
so  quiet  in  his  mind  as  he  was  before,  he  had  then  so  much 
letting  by  seeing  the  vanities  of  the  world.  Wherefore  he 
prayed  to  our  Lord  that  by  the  merits  of  Saint  Thomas 
he  might  be  blind  again  to  the  world  as  he  was  before, 
and  anon  he  had  his  desire,  and  lived  after  full  holily  to 
his  life's  end.  Who  should  tell  all  the  miracles  that  our 
blessed  Lord  hath  showed  for  this  holy  martyr,  it  should 
overmuch  endure,  for  ever  sith  his  passion  unto  this  day, 
God  hath  showed  continually  for  him  many  great  miracles. 
Then  let  us  pray  this  holy  saint  to  be  a  special  advocate 
for  us  wretched  sinners  unto  our  Lord  God,  who  bring 
us  unto  His  everlasting  bliss  in  heaven. 

Translated  by  William  Caxton 


ALLEGORY 


AN   EXTRACT  FROM   "THE  CASTLE  OF  LOVE 


AN  EXTRACT  FROM  "THE  CASTLE  OF  LOVE"1 

The  King  had  a  castle  made,  after  His  own  device,  so 
that  it  would  never  dread  the  assault  of  any  enemies.  He 
set  it  on  a  white  rock,  thick  and  high,  with  good  ditches 
all  about,  deep  and  wide.  Men  can  never  undermine  this 
castle  by  any  kind  of  craft,  nor  can  any  engine  do  it  harm. 
The  castle  is  ever  full  of  love  and  grace  for  any  one  who 
has  need  of  succor.  Four  towers  it  has,  with  fair  battle- 
ments, and  three  courts.  Heart  cannot  think  nor  can 
tongue  tell  all  the  bounty  and  the  beauty  of  this  castle. 
Seven  barbicans  are  set  so  securely  that  no  manner  of 
shooting  from  without  can  cause  harm.  The  castle  is 
painted  on  the  outside  in  three  colors :  a  red  burning 
color  is  above,  towards  the  fair  towers  ;  the  color  of  the 
middle  portion  is  blue  softer  than  indigo  ;  and  near  the 
ground  is  green  that  never  changes  hue. 

These  colors  cast  such  light  both  far  and  near  that  when 
men  behold  them  it  greatly  comforts  their  sight.  The 
castle,  within,  is  ever  blanched  as  white  as  any  driven  snow. 
Four  fair  streams  flow  out  of  a  well  in  the  middle  of  the 
highest  tower  and  fill  the  ditches.  So  fair  and  so  good 
is  the  water,  that  he  who  drinks  of  it  has  great  bliss.  A 
throne  of  ivory  there  was  set  in  this  tower,  and  seven  steps 
lead  upward,  with  great  worship  and  honor.  Never  was  a 
throne  half  so  fair  seen  in  this  world ;  nor  did  prince  or 
queen  ever  have  so  beautiful  a  one.    It  was  made  subtilely, 

i  See  Notes. 
95 


9^  ALLEGORY 

by  wondrous  design,  and  a  rainbow  steadfastly  arched  above 
it.  The  King's  Son  made  it  for  His  own  seat ;  never  was 
there  one  so  fair,  nor  shall  there  ever  be. 

This  castle  of  solace  and  of  succor  is  the  blessed  body 
of  her  who  bore  our  Saviour,  and  is  a  refuge  for  all  man- 
kind. Whosoever  flees  thither  shall  find  succor.  The 
rock,  white  and  fair  and  stable,  is  her  heart  in  all  its  holi- 
ness, that  made  her  serve  God  without  fear,  in  sovereign 
purity  of  meekness  and  maidenhood.  The  green  color,  by 
the  ground,  that  will  last  so  well,  is  the  truth  of  our  lady, 
aye  steadfast.  The  central  color  in  the  midst  of  this 
castle  wall  is  enduring  hope  to  attain  the  grace  that  saves 
mankind.  The  red  color  above,  burning  to  the  sight,  is 
the  burning  love  of  God  and  man,  that  gives  great  light. 
No  wonder  if  this  castle  is  wholly  white  within,  for  the 
heart  of  that  maiden  was  never  defiled  with  sin.  The  four 
towers,  great  and  strong,  so  fair  to  see,  were  ghostly 
strength  and  soberness,  righteousness  and  skill.1  These 
four  virtues  drive  out  all  manner  of  wickedness,  and  keep 
fast,  within,  all  goodness. 

The  courts,  one  within  another,  in  three  stages,  are 
clean  maidenhood,  motherhood,  and  true  wifehood.  There 
never  was  a  woman  except  Saint  Mary  with  all  these 
three,  but  whosoever  would  be  saved  from  sin,  must  have 
one  of  these.  The  seven  barbicans  we  call  the  seven  fair 
virtues,  that  suffered  no  vice  to  be  in  our  Lady.  Great 
meekness  in  her  heart  forever  vanquished  pride ;  envy 
could  not  abide  her  great  charity ;  her  devout  abstinence 
destroyed  all  gluttony,  and  her  clean  maidenhood  forbade 
lechery ;    wicked  covetousness  might  never  dwell  in  her 

1  The  four  cardinal  virtues :  Fortitude,  Temperance,  Justice,  and  Prudence. 


EXTRACT  FROM  "THE  CASTLE  OF  LOVE"     97 

heart,  because  wilful  poverty  guarded  that  castle  ;  patience 
was  always  watching,  so  that  the  sin  of  wrath  could  never 
have  resting  place.  There  was  in  her  heart  so  much  spirit- 
ual comfort  that  the  sin  of  sloth  could  never  dwell  therein. 
The  fair  well  of  the  castle,  that  ever  fills  the  ditches,  is 
grace  in  God's  mother,  ever  dear  to  sinful  man.  Thou 
who  hast  need  of  grace,  go  to  the  well-spring ;  whosoever 
has  her  help  will  never  go  to  hell.  Make  the  ditches  of 
meekness  and  of  good  will,  and  the  four  streams  of  grace 
shall  soon  fill  thee  :  one  stream  evermore  shall  wash  thee 
clean  of  sin,  another  shall  make  thee  steadfast  against 
temptation,  the  third  shall  bear  thee  to  bliss  that  is  for  aye. 
This  well  is  evermore  the  spring  of  mercy  and  of  pity. 
The  throne  of  ivory  is  the  soul  of  our  sweet  Lady ;  the 
seven  steps  leading  thereto  are  the  seven  works  of  mercy; 
the  rainbow  of  three  colors  bending  over  it  is  the  might 
of  the  holy  Trinity,  covering  her.  No  wonder  if  this 
castle  is  fair  to  see,  since  God,  the  sun  of  righteousness, 
would  alight  therein.  He  came  through  the  closed  gate 
just  as  the  bright  sunbeam  comes  and  goes  through  the 
glass.  All  that  man  has  need  of  is  in  this  castle ;  he  who 
has  its  help  has  happiness  enough. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


BESTIARY 


LION,   EAGLE,  WHALE,   SIREN 


THE  LION1 
Nature 

I 

The  lion  stands  upon  a  hill,  and  if  he  hears  a  man  hunt- 
ing, or  through  his  nostrils  scents  one  approaching,  he  fills 
all  his  own  footsteps,  as  he  goes  down  to  the  dale,  by  draw- 
ing either  dust  or  dew  into  them  with  his  tail,  so  that  the 
hunter  cannot  find  him,  and  thus  he  speeds  to  his  den  and 

there  shelters  himself. 

II 

Another  nature  he  has.  When  he  is  born  he  lies  still 
and  stirs  not  from  sleep  until  the  sun  has  shone  thrice 
about  him,  then  his  father  rouses  him  by  the  cry  he  makes. 

Ill 

The  third  habit  the  lion  has  is  this  :  when  he  lies  down 
to  sleep  he  never  closes  the  lids  of  his  eyes. 

Signification 
I 
Very  high  is  that  hill  which  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ; 
our  Lord  is  the  Lion,  who  lives  there  above.  Though  He 
chose  to  alight  here  on  earth,  the  devil,  even  if  he  be  a 
crafty  hunter,  could  never  know  how  He  came  down  nor 
how  He  dwelt  in  that  humble  maiden,  Mary  by  name,  who 
bore  Him  for  the  salvation  of  men. 

1  See  Notes. 

IOI 


102  BESTIARY 

II,  III 

Though  our  Lord  was  dead,  and  buried,  as  was  His 
will,  and  lay  still  in  a  stone  until  the  third  day,  His  father 
aided  Him,  so  that  He  arose  from  the  dead,  to  keep  us 
alive.  He  watches,  according  to  His  will,  as  a  shepherd, 
and  we  are  the  sheep ;  He  will  shield  us  if  we  hear  His 
word,  and  go  nowhere  astray. 


THE   EAGLE 

Nature 

I  will  make  known  to  you  the  nature  of  the  eagle,  as  I 
read  about  it  in  a  book  ;  how  he  renews  his  youth  and  how 
he  emerges  from  old  age  when  his  limbs  are  unwieldy  and 
his  beak  all  twisted,  and  his  flight  is  weak  and  his  eyes 
dim ;  hear  how  he  recreates  himself.  He  seeks  a  well 
which  springs  up  ever,  both  by  night  and  by  day ;  over 
that  he  flies,  and  up  he  soars  until  he  passes  through  the 
sixth  and  the  seventh  skies  and  reaches  heaven,  and  hovers 
as  close  as  he  can  to  the  sun.  The  sun  scorches  his  wings 
and  makes  his  eyes  bright ;  his  feathers  fall  out  because 
of  the  heat,  and  he  falls  down  then  into  the  water  to  the 
bottom  of  the  well,  where  he  becomes  whole  and  sound 
and  comes  out  all  new,  except  that  his  beak  is  crooked. 
Since  his  beak  is  twisted,  though  his  limbs  are  strong,  he 
cannot  procure  food  for  himself.  Then  he  goes  to  a  stone 
and  strikes  his  beak  on  it  and  continues  to  strike  it  until 
his  beak  loses  all  its  crookedness,  and  at  once  with  his 
straight  bill  he  seizes  what  food  he  likes. 

Signification 

Man  is  like  unto  the  eagle,  —  if  you  will  listen,  —  old  in 
his  secret  sins,  ere  he  becomes  a  Christian.  Before  he  had 
considered  his  sins  his  eyes  were  murky.  Thus  he  may 
renew  himself  if  he  goes  to  church,  and,  there  renouncing 

103 


104  BESTIARY 

Satan  and  every  sinful  deed,  betakes  himself  to  Jesus  Christ, 
who  will  be  his  reward.  He  believes  in  our  Lord  Christ, 
and  learns  the  teachings  of  the  priest,  and  the  mist  departs 
from  his  eyes  while  he  lingers  there.  His  hope  is  all  fixed 
upon  God,  and  he  learns  of  His  love  which,  like  the  sun, 
again  restores  his  sight.  Naked  he  falls  in  the  font,  and 
comes  out  all  new,  except  for  one  little  thing.  What  is 
that  ?  His  mouth  is  still  untrue,  his  mouth  is  still  unfamiliar 
with  pater  noster  and  creed.  If  he  goes  north  or  if  he 
goes  south  he  will  soon  discover  his  need ;  he  will  beg  a 
favor  from  God  and  thus  will  make  his  mouth  perfect ;  so 
may  he  gain  his  soul's  food,  through  the  grace  of  our  Lord. 


THE  WHALE 

Nature 

The  whale  is  the  largest  fish  that  is  in  the  ocean.  You 
would  say,  if  you  should  see  it  afloat,  that  it  is  an  island, 
that  sits  upon  the  sea  sand.  When  this  fish,  so  unwieldy, 
is  hungry  he  opens  his  jaws  wide,  and  out  of  his  throat 
comes  a  sweet  odor,  the  sweetest  thing  that  is  on  earth. 
When  other  fish  perceive  it  they  are  glad  to  draw  near ; 
they  come  and  hover  in  his  mouth,  unaware  of  his  deceit. 
Then  the  whale  shuts  his  jaws,  sucking  in  all  these  fish. 
It  is  only  the  small  ones  he  thus  deceives  ;  the  big  ones 
he  cannot  catch.  This  fish  dwells  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean,  and  lives  there,  always  hale  and  well,  until  it  comes 
to  be  the  time  when  storms  stir  all  the  sea.  Then  summer 
and  winter  contend,  and  the  whale  cannot  stay  there,  be- 
cause the  sea  bottom  is  so  turbid,  so  he  rises  and  lies  still, 
while  the  weather  is  so  bad.  Sailors  in  the  ships  driven 
about  on  the  sea,  dreading  to  die  and  anxious  to  live,  look 
around  and  see  this  fish,  and,  believing  it  is  an  island,  are 
very  happy  as  they  draw  near  ;  with  all  their  strength  they 
cast  anchor,  and  go  upon  the  island.  By  flint  and  steel 
they  start  a  fire  burning  well  on  this  wonder,  and  warm 
themselves,  and  eat  and  drink.  The  whale,  feeling  the 
fire,  sinks  them,  for  he  quickly  dives  down  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea  and  thus  drowns  them  all. 

105 


io6  BESTIARY 


Signification 


This  devil  is  strong  in  wile  and  might,  as  witches  are 
in  their  craft ;  he  makes  men  hunger  and  thirst  and  have 
sinful  desires ;  he  entices  men  to  him  with  his  breath ; 
whoever  follows  him  finds  shame.  It  is  the  ones  of  little 
faith  whom  he  deceives,  not  those  who  are  strong  and 
steadfast  in  flesh  and  spirit,  holding  to  the  true  faith. 
He  who  listens  to  the  devil's  teachings  will  at  last  repent 
it  sorely  ;  he  who  fastens  his  hope  on  him  will  follow  him 
to  dim  hell. 


THE   SIREN 
^  Nature 

In  the  sea  are  many  wonders.  The  mermaid  is  like  a 
maiden  to  the  waist,  but  otherwise  she  is  exactly  like  a  fish 
with  fins.  This  marvel  dwells  in  dangerous  places  where 
the  water  is  shallow,  and  she  sinks  ships  and  works  harm 
thus.  Merrily  this  maid  sings,  and  she  has  many  voices,  — 
many  and  shrill,  —  but  they  are  all  evil,  for  sailors  forget 
their  steering  because  of  her  singing,  and  they  slumber 
and  sleep  and  wake  too  late ;  and  the  ships  sink  with  the 
confusion,  and  come  up  nevermore.  Wise  men  and  wary 
know  how  to  flee,  and  often  escape  with  uncorrupted  heart. 
By  this  maiden  of  whom  you  have  heard,  this  monster 
half  human  and  half  fish,  something  is  betokened. 

Signification 

Many  men  illustrate  the  meaning  of  this  example  :  with- 
out, they  wear  the  skin  of  sheep  ;  within,  they  are  wolves 
wholly ;  they  speak  piously,  but  wicked  are  their  deeds ; 
their  deeds  are  all  unlike  what  their  mouths  speak.  Two- 
fold they  are  in  spirit,  —  they  swear  by  the  cross,  by  the 
sun,  and  by  the  moon,  and  they  lie  both  in  their  speech 
and  in  their  singing.  They  deceive  thee  then  ;  they  destroy 
thy  goods  with  treachery  and  thy  soul  with  lying. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 
107 


LAPIDARY 


DIAMOND,  SAPPHIRE,  AMETHYST,  GERATITE,  CHELI- 

DONIUS,  CORAL,  HELIOTROPE,  PEARL,  PANTHEROS; 

SYMBOLISM    OF   THE    CARBUNCLE;    SYMBOLISM    OF 

THE  TWELVE   STONES 


EXTRACTS   FROM  LAPIDARIES1 

Evax,  king  of  Arabia,  sent  to  Nero,  the  emperor  of 
Rome,  a  book  which  he  had  written  concerning  the  nature 
of  stones,  telling  their  kinds,  their  names,  their  colors,  in 
what  lands  they  are  found,  and  the  virtues  that  they  have. 
Many  of  their  virtues  are  hidden,  but  others  are  well  known. 
Doctors  who  know  the  powers  of  gems  find  them  of  great 
aid  in  their  medicines.  No  wise  man  can  doubt  that  God 
has  placed  great  virtue  in  stones,  as  He  has  in  herbs. 

Diamond 

The  diamond  is  as  clear  as  crystal,  but  it  has  also  the 
aspect  of  steel.  It  is  found  in  India.  Such  great  hardness 
it  has  that  neither  with  iron  nor  with  fire  can  it  be  cut, 
but  if  it  is  soaked  in  the  hot  blood  of  a  goat,  a  man  can 
work  it  on  the  anvil  with  a  hammer.  The  sharp  splinters 
which  are  broken  off  are  used  to  cut  other  gems.  This 
stone  is  no  bigger  than  a  hazel-nut.  In  Arabia  there  is  a 
kind  of  diamond,  not  so  hard,  which  can  be  cut  without 
goat's  blood.  It  is  not  so  beautiful  nor  so  valuable  as  the 
other,  although  it  is  larger.  A  third  species  comes  from 
Cypress,  and  a  fourth  from  Greece.  Each  one  has  the 
power  of  attracting  iron.  Enchanters  use  this  stone  in 
their  enchantments.  It  gives  to  the  man  who  carries  it 
strength  and  virtue ;    it  protects  him  from  bad  dreams, 

1  See  Notes. 
Ill 


H2  LAPIDARY 

from  phantoms,  from  all  poisons,  and  from  all  hates  and 
discord  ;  it  cures  madmen,  and  defends  a  man  against  his 
enemies.  It  should  be  set  in  gold  or  in  silver,  and  worn 
upon  the  left  arm. 

Sapphire 

Sapphire  is  fit  for  the  fingers  of  kings ;  it  is  resplend- 
ent and  like  the  sky  when  free  from  clouds ;  there  is  no 
other  stone  which  has  greater  virtue  or  beauty.  Men  call 
it  Syrtites  because  it  is  found  in  the  sand  of  Libya  near 
the  Syrtes.  The  best  is  that  which  is  found  in  Turkey, 
for  this  is  not  translucent.  It  is  of  such  great  virtue  that 
it  is  by  right  called  the  gem  of  all  gems.  It  comforts  the 
body  and  keeps  its  members  whole  ;  it  overcomes  envy 
and  treachery,  and  it  drives  away  fear.  It  frees  a  man  from 
prison  and  looses  heavy  fetters ;  it  is  good  for  effecting 
reconciliation,  and  is  better  than  any  other  stone  for  see- 
ing in  the  water  the  signs  which  reveal  things  hitherto 
not  known.  As  medicine  it  is  valuable  because  it  cools  an 
internal  fever ;  if  a  person  dissolves  it  in  milk  it  will  cure 
bad  diseases.  It  is  good  for  the  eyes,  and  for  headache,  and 
for  disease  of  the  tongue.  He  who  carries  it  must  be  chaste. 

Amethyst 

The  amethyst  has  a  purple  color,  or  sometimes  is  like 
violet  or  like  drops  of  wine  or  like  a  rose.  Some  there 
are  which  turn  almost  white,  others  are  like  red  wine 
mixed  with  water.  From  India  it  comes ;  it  is  easy  to 
work,  and  it  prevents  intoxication.  It  would  be  precious 
if  it  were  not  so  abundant,  but  it  is  commonplace  since 
there  is  so  much  of  it.    There  are  five  kinds. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  LAPIDARIES  113 

Geratite 
Geratite  is  black.  It  is  of  such  a  nature  that  if  a  man 
opens  his  mouth  and  puts  the  stone  under  his  tongue  he 
will  divine  what  another  person  thinks  of  him,  and  can 
win  any  woman's  devotion.  This  stone  can  be  tried  as 
follows  :  let  a  man  anoint  himself  with  milk  and  honey, 
go  out  into  the  sunshine  where  insects  swarm,  and  if  he 
has  the  stone  in  his  mouth  the  insects  will  not  attack 
him  ;  if  he  removes  the  stone  they  will  at  once  sting  him. 

Chelidonius 
Chelidonius  is  a  stone  which  one  finds  in  the  stomach 
of  a  swallow.  It  is  not  very  beautiful,  but  it  surpasses  all 
the  beautiful  stones  in  usefulness.  It  is  of  ten  sorts  and 
of  two  colors  —  black  and  red.  The  red  is  good  for  the 
frenzy  which  seizes  people  who  are  moon-struck ;  it  re- 
stores their  sanity  to  madmen  and  cures  those  who  are 
pining  away.  He  who  carries  this  stone  will  be  a  good 
orator  and  will  be  much  beloved.  One  must  carry  it 
wrapped  in  linen  cloth  and  suspended  under  the  left  arm. 
The  black,  if  worn  in  the  same  way,  aids  a  man  to  ac- 
complish important  things  he  has  undertaken ;  it  is  also  a 
help  against  the  threats  and  rages  of  kings  and  princes. 
The  water  in  which  it  is  washed  is  helpful  to  diseased 
eyes.  If  wrapped  in  linen  cloth  of  saffron  tint,  it  drives 
away  fever  and  restrains  the  humors  which  injure  the  body. 

Coral 

Coral  is  a  stone  which  grows  in  the  sea  like  a  tree.  It 
is  green  there  where  it  grows,  but  when  it  is  exposed  to 
the  air  it  hardens  and  becomes  red.     It  is  like  a  bush 


114  LAPIDARY 

hardly  half  a  foot  high.  It  is  very  good  to  carry  about,  as 
say  the  authors  Zoroaster  and  Metrodorus,  for  it  protects 
one  from  lightning  and  tempest,  and  if  one  scatters  it  on 
vines  or  among  olive  trees,  or  upon  a  seeded  field,  it  will 
be  a  protection  from  hail  and  other  storms.  It  makes 
fruits  multiply,  it  drives  away  phantoms,  it  gives  a  good 
beginning  and  a  prosperous  conclusion. 

Heliotrope 

Heliotrope  is  of  such  a  nature  that  if  one  puts  it  in  a 
basin  of  water  opposite  the  sun,  it  makes  the  sun  become 
red  and  creates  an  eclipse.  In  a  little  while  it  makes  the 
water  boil  up  over  the  basin's  edge,  and  fall  like  a  shower 
of  rain.  He  who  wears  this  can  prophesy  many  things. 
It  gives  a  man  praise  and  good  health,  it  stanches  the 
flow  of  blood,  it  overcomes  poison  and  treachery.  Any 
one  who  takes  the  herb  called  heliotrope  and  binds  the 
two  together  with  the  proper  incantation  can  walk  where 
he  pleases  and  no  one  will  see  him.  This  stone  comes 
from  Ethiopia,  from  Cypress,  and  from  Africa.  It  is  very 
much  like  the  emerald,  but  has  red  spots. 

Pearl 

The  pearl  is  found  in  a  shell,  and  it  is  called  unto 
(union),  because  it  is  always  found  alone.  The  wise  say 
that  the  oyster  shells  are  open  at  certain  times,  and  they 
receive  the  dew  of  heaven ;  the  morning  dews  become 
white  and  clear  pearls,  while  the  evening  dews  are  obscure. 
The  young  shells  produce  clearer  pearls  than  the  old  ones 
do.  The  more  dew  the  shells  receive,  the  larger  is  the 
pearl,  but  no  one  is  ever  more  than  half  an  ounce  in 


EXTRACTS   FROM  LAPIDARIES  1 15 

weight.  If  there  is  thunder  when  the  dew  is  received, 
then  the  pearls  perish.  They  grow  in  India  and  in  Great 
Britain. 

Pantheros 

Pantheros  is  of  various  colors,  —  black,  red,  green,  gray, 
purple,  and  rose  color.  All  these  shades  appear  in  combina- 
tion. Whoever  sees  it  in  the  morning  will  not  be  defeated 
in  battle,  that  day,  nor  in  any  other  undertaking.  In  India 
there  is  a  beast,  of  divers  colors,  called  the  panther,  of  whom 
other  beasts  are  afraid,  and  this  stone  is  named  after  him. 

Symbolism  of  the  Carbuncle1 

The  carbuncle  is  red,  and  surpasses  the  wonders  of  all 
other  stones.  The  books  tell  us  that  the  gentle  carbuncle, 
fine  and  clear,  is  the  lord  of  all  stones,  the  gem  of  all 
gems,  and  has  the  virtue  of  precious  stones,  above  all.  It 
is  of  such  superiority,  that  when  he  who  wears  it  comes 
among  people,  all  accord  him  honor  and  grace,  and  rejoice 
in  his  coming.  The  books  tell  us  that  the  beasts  who  drink 
of  the  stream  where  carbuncles  have  been  washed,  are 
cured  of  their  malady ;  and  the  wretched  who  in  good 
faith  look  at  this  stone  are  comforted  and  forget  their 
adversity.  By  the  virtue  which  God  has  sent,  it  soothes 
the  eyes,  comforts  the  heart  and  the  body,  and  gives  man 
lordship  more  than  do  those  stones  which  are  larger.  Car- 
buncles are  found  in  Libya  in  the  river  of  paradise.  The 
book  of  Moses  says  that  God  commanded  that  the  car- 
buncle should  be  first  in  the  second  row  of  twelve  stones. 
By  night  and  by  day  it  illumines  all,  and  restores  and 
lightens  the  heart.   Sunlight  does  not  take  away  any  of  its 

1  See  Notes. 


1 16  LAPIDARY 

great  and  joy-giving  color.  Moses  tells  us  that  it  signifies 
Jesus  Christ,  who  came  into  the  world  to  lighten  our  dark- 
ness, and  Saint  John,  speaking  of  the  coming  of  Jesus 
Christ,  said  He  is  the  true  Light  who  gives  light  to  all 
men  and  to  all  the  world.  Isaiah  the  prophet  said  of  Him 
that  the  people  who  walked  in  darkness  have  seen  a  great 
Light.  Saint  John  did  not  find  the  carbuncle  among  the 
foundations  of  the  celestial  kingdom  of  Jerusalem,  for  all 
who  desire  to  behold  the  carbuncle  and  the  clearness  of 
the  true  sun  must  turn  to  the  true  light  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Symbolism  of  the  Twelve  Stones  l 

Twelve  stones  there  are  in  this  world  which  have  great 
significance.  I  shall  not  fail  briefly  to  say  what  each  one 
signifies.  Red  jasper  signifies  love ;  the  green,  faith  ;  the 
white,  sweetness.  Sapphire  means  that  he  who  has  faith 
shall  reign  together  with  God.  Chalcedony,  which  is  the 
color  of  fire,  shows  who  will  be  neighbors  with  God. 
Emerald  signifies  the  faith  which  the  Christians  have  in 
Him ;  sardonyx,  chastity  and  humility  among  the  saints ; 
sardius,  the  sorrows  which  they  had  on  earth  for  their 
love  of  God ;  chrysolite,  the  life  celestial  that  they  have 
after  the  life  terrestrial ;  beryl,  purification,  which  the 
saints  pronounce  to  the  people.  Topaz  signifies  to  us  the 
crown  of  holy  life ;  chrysoprase,  the  reward  which  holy 
men  will  hold  very  dear ;  and  jacinth  is  a  sign  of  the 
light  which  the  saints  have  from  the  Creator.  Amethyst 
shows  the  martyrdom  which  God  suffered. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 
1  See  Notes. 


HOMILY 


CONCERNING  MIRACLE  PLAYS,  GAMES,  AND 
MINSTRELSY 


CONCERNING  MIRACLE  PLAYS,  GAMES,  AND 
MINSTRELSY 1 

It  is  forbidden  a  clerk  in  orders  to  perform  or  to  see 
.miracle  plays,  for  they  are  sinful  gatherings  and  sights. 
He  may,  in  church,  play  the  resurrection,  showing  how 
God  rose,  and  thus  make  men  believe  faithfully  that 
Christ  rose  in  flesh  and  blood,  and  he  may  play  without 
harm  the  part  showing  how  God  was  born  in  Yule  night, 
and  thus  teach  men  to  believe  steadfastly  that  Christ  was 
born  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  If  he  plays  parts  in  the  streets 
or  in  groves,  it  seems  truly  a  sinful  sight.  Saint  Isidore 
bears  witness  to  this,  for  he  says,  ' '  These  men  forsake 
what  they  accepted,  —  God  and  Christianity,  when  they  take 
part  in  such  things  as  miracle  plays  or  in  games  or  tour- 
naments of  great  price."  These  are  pomps  that  thou  didst 
forsake  when  thou  didst  accept  Christianity.  At  the  font 
the  ignorant  man  says,  "  I  forsake  thee,  here,  Satan,  and 
all  thy  pomps  and  thy  works."  This  is  the  instruction  thou 
hast  had  as  a  clerk.  Hast  thou  kept  thy  promise  when 
thou  dost  take  part  in  such  performances  ?  Thou  hast 
broken  thy  covenant  with  God,  and  dost  serve  thy  sire, 
Termagant.  Saint  Isidore  says  in  his  writings,  "  All  those 
who  delight  in  seeing  such  things,  or  who  lend  horse  or 
harness  for  them,  are  perilously  guilty."  If  a  priest  or  a 
clerk  lends  a  vestment  which  has  been  hallowed  by  the 
sacrament,  he,  more  than  others,  is  to  be  blamed,  for  he 

l  See  Notes. 
119 


120  HOMILY 

shall  have  the  infamy  which  attends  sacrilege,  and  shall 
be  chastised  as  is  right. 

Dances,  carols,  and  summer  games  bring  shame  in 
many  ways ;  when  thou  dost  plan  to  take  part  in  these 
thou  art  slothful  in  God's  service,  and  shalt  be  punished 
for  thy  sin. 

What  say  you  of  minstrels,  all  of  whom  delight  in  such 
things  ?  Their  deeds  are  full  of  peril,  and  dear  neither  to 
God  nor  to  God's  house.  They  would  rather  hear  of  a  dance 
or  of  deeds  of  boasting  and  of  pride  than  any  good  of  God 
in  heaven,  or  other  wisdom  that  may  be  named.  In  folly 
is  spent  all  that  they  get,  —  on  their  dress,  their  drink, 
and  their  meat.  And  because  of  such  things,  I  shall  tell 
you  what  once  befell  a  minstrel.  Saint  Gregory  tells  this 
story : 

A  minstrel,  a  goliardys,1  came  once  to  a  bishop's  house, 
and  asked  for  charity.  The  porter  let  him  enter.  At  meal 
time  the  board  was  laid  ;  and  when  the  benison  should 
have  been  said,  this  minstrel  made  melody  with  music 
loud  and  high.  By  report,  the  bishop  was  a  holy  man. 
He  sat  down  at  the  table,  and  should  have  blessed  the 
food,  with  a  word,  but  he  was  so  disturbed  by  the  noise  of 
the  minstrelsy  that  he  did  not  say  grace,  as  he  usually  did, 
very  devoutly. 

The  bishop  complained  sorely,  and  said  to  all  those  who 
were  there  that  he  would  not  put  the  benison  above  the 
grace  of  charity.  He  saw  well,  in  spirit,  that  vengeance 
was  approaching  speedily,  and  said,  "Give  him  his  alms, 
and  let  him  go.  Death  approaches,  which  will  slay  him." 
The  minstrel  received  charity,  and  then  departed,  and  as 

1  According  to  G.  Paris  he  played  on  cymbals  and  exhibited  a  monkey. 


PLAYS,  GAMES,  AND  MINSTRELSY  12 1 

he  passed  out  of  the  gate,  a  stone  fell  down  from  the  wall, 
and  slew  him  there.  That  betokened  that  God  was  not 
pleased  with  what  the  minstrel  did,  when  he  disturbed  the 
devotion  of  the  good  man. 

This  is  told  for  the  sake  of  gleemen,  so  that  they  will 
take  some  heed  as  to  where  it  is  proper  to  make  music, 
and  also  for  the  sake  of  those  who  listen,  so  that  they  will 
not  love  minstrelsy  too  dearly,  nor  have  for  it  such  affec- 
tion that  they  will  worship  heaven's  King  the  less. 

I  shall  tell  you  what  I  have  heard  of  this  bishop,  Saint 
Robert,  whose  surname  is  Grossteste  of  Lincoln.  He  loved 
to  hear  the  harp,  for  it  makes  the  wit  of  man  keen.  Next 
his  chamber,  beside  his  study,  was  his  harper's  chamber. 
Many  times,  by  night  and  by  day,  he  found  solace  in  notes 
and  lays.  Some  one  asked  him  why  he  had  such  delight 
in  minstrelsy,  and  he  told  why  he  held  the  harper  dear : 
'  The  virtue  of  the  harp  will  destroy  the  fiend's  might, 
and  rightly  the  harp  is  likened  to  the  cross.  Another  thing 
comforts  me,  —  if  God  has  given  to  a  piece  of  wood  the 
power  to  make  men  hear  so  much  joy,  even  more  joy, 
there  must  be  where  God  Himself  dwells.  The  harp  often 
reminds  me  of  the  joy  and  bliss  where  God  is.  Therefore, 
good  men,  you  should  learn  when  you  hear  a  gleeman, 
to  worship  God  with  all  your  might,  according  as  David 
says  in  the  Psalter,  '  in  harp,  in  tabor,  and  in  symphony, 
worship  God  ;  in  trumpets  and  psaltery,  in  stringed  instru- 
ments and  organs,  and  in  bells  ringing,  in  all  these  wor- 
ship heaven's  King.'    If  you  do  thus,  I  say  boldly,  you 

may  hear  your  minstrelsy." 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


SATIRE 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PARIS 

THE  LAND  OF  COCKAYGNE 

THE  COMPLAINT  OF  THE  HUSBANDMAN 

SIR  PENNY 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PARIS1 

Much  argument  is  heard  of  late, 

The  subject  I'll  attempt  to  state, 

A  question  for  dispute,  I  fear, 

That  will  hang  on  for  many  a  year. 

The  student-folk  of  Paris  town 

(I  speak  of  those  in  cap  and  gown, 

Students  of  art,  philosophy,  — 

In  short,  "the  University," 

And  not  our  old-time  learned  men) 

Have  stirred  up  trouble  here  again. 

Nothing  they  '11  gain,  it  seems  to  me, 

Except  more  bitter  enmity, 

Till  there  is  no  peace,  day  or  night. 

Does  such  a  state  of  things  seem  right  ? 

To  give  his  son  a  chance  to  stay 
In  Paris,  growing  wise  each  day, 
Is  some  old  peasant's  one  ambition. 
To  pay  his  bills  and  his  tuition 
The  poor  hard-working  father  slaves  ; 
Sends  him  each  farthing  that  he  saves, 
While  he  in  misery  will  stay 
On  his  scant  plot  of  land  to  pray 
That  his  hard  toil  may  help  to  raise 
His  son  to  honor  and  to  praise. 

1  See  Notes. 
125 


126  SATIRE 

But  once  the  son  is  safe  in  town 
The  story  then  reads  upside  down. 
Forgetting  all  his  pledges  now, 
The  earnings  of  his  father's  plow 
He  spends  for  weapons,  not  for  books. 
Dawdling  through  city  streets,  he  looks 
To  find  some  pretty,  loitering  wench, 
Or  idle  brawl  by  tavern  bench  ; 
Wanders  at  will  and  pries  about, 
Till  money  fails  and  gown  wears  out.  — 
Then  he  starts  fresh  on  the  old  round ; 
Why  sow  good  seed  on  barren  ground  ? 
Even  in  Lent  when  men  should  do 
Something  pleasing  in  God's  view, 
Your  students  then  elect  to  wear 
For  penitence,  no  shirts  of  hair, 
But  swaggering  hauberks,  as  they  sit 
Drowning  in  drink  their  feeble  wit ; 
While  three  or  four  of  them  excite 
Four  hundred  students  to  a  fight, 
And  close  the  University. 
(Not  such  a  great  calamity  ! ) 

Yet,  heavens,  for  one  of  serious  mind 
What  life  more  pleasing  can  you  find 
Than  earnest  scholar's  life  may  be  ? 
More  pains  than  precious  gems  has  he, 
And  while  he  's  struggling  to  grow  wise, 
Amusements  he  must  sacrifice,  — 
Give  up  his  feasting  and  his  drinking, 
And  spend  his  time  in  sober  thinking. 


SONG  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PARIS       1 27 

His  life  is  just  about  as  merry 
As  is  a  monk's  in  a  monastery. 
Why  send  a  boy  away  to  school 
There  to  become  an  arrant  fool  ? 
When  he  should  be  acquiring  sense, 
He  wastes  his  time  and  all  his  pence, 
And  to  his  friends  brings  only  shame, 
While  they  suppose  him  winning  fame. 

Translated  by  Marion  E.  Markley 


THE  LAND  OF  COCKAYGNE1 

Far  in  the  sea  west  of  Spain  is  a  land  called  Cockaygne. 
There  is  no  land  except  the  kingdom  of  heaven  its  equal 
in  happiness  and  goodness  ;  though  paradise  is  joyful  and 
bright,  Cockaygne  is  still  fairer.  What  is  there  in  paradise 
but  grass  and  flowers  and  green  branches  ?  Though  joy 
and  great  pleasure  are  in  paradise,  yet  there  is  no  food 
but  fruit ;  there  is  no  hall,  no  bower,  no  bench,  and  nothing 
but  water  to  quench  one's  thirst.  Only  two  men  live  there, 
Enoch  and  Elias  ;  a  wretched  life  must  they  lead  where  no 
other  men  dwell. 

In  Cockaygne  is  meat  and  drink,  without  care  or  trouble 
or  toil.  The  meat  is  dainty  ;  the  drink  is  pure  wine  at  noon 
and  at  supper.  This  land  has  no  peer  on  earth ;  verily 
there  is  no  place  under  heaven  so  full  of  joy  and  bliss. 

In  that  land  is  many  a  sweet  sight ;  it  is  always  day  and 
never  night ;  there  is  no  strife  nor  quarrel ;  there  is  no 
death,  but  only  lasting  life ;  there  is  no  lack  of  food  nor 
dress  ;  there  is  no  angry  man  nor  woman  ;  there  is  no  ser- 
pent, wolf,  nor  fox,  horse  nor  colt,  ox  nor  cow  ;  there  is  no 
sheep  nor  swine  nor  goat  nor  steed  nor  stables.  There 
are  no  flies  nor  fleas  nor  other  insects  in  town  or  bed  or 
house,  no  serpents  nor  snails,  nor  is  there  thunder,  sleet, 
nor  hail,  storm,  rain,  nor  wind  ;  there  is  no  blind  man  nor 
woman,  but  everywhere  is  jest  and  joy  and  glee.  Well 
fares  it  with  him  who  there  may  dwell. 

1  See  Notes. 
128 


THE  LAND  OF  COCKAYGNE  129 

Rivers  flow  there,  wide  and  fair,  of  oil,  of  milk,  of 
honey,  and  of  wine.  Water  serves  there  only  two  uses,  — 
to  look  at,  and  to  use  for  washing.  There  are  many  kinds 
of  fruit,  and  everywhere  is  solace  and  delight. 

There  is  a  fair  abbey  of  white  monks  and  of  gray  ;  there 
are  bowers  and  halls ;  the  walls  are  all  of  pasties,  of  flesh, 
of  fish,  and  of  rich  meats,  —  the  very  best  a  man  may  eat. 
Flour  cakes  are  the  shingles  of  church,  cloister,  bower, 
and  hall.  The  pinnacles  are  fat  puddings,  rich  food  for 
princes  and  kings  ;  men  may  eat  as  much  as  they  please, 
without  any  danger.  All  things  are  in  common  to  both 
old  and  young,  to  strong  and  weak,  to  meek  and  bold. 

There  is  a  cloister  fair  and  light,  broad  and  long  and 
beautiful.  All  the  pillars  of  that  cloister  are  of  crystal, 
with  bases  and  capitals  of  green  jasper  and  red  coral.  In 
the  meadow  is  a  tree,  most  pleasing  to  the  sight.  The 
root  is  ginger  and  galingale  ;  the  shoots  are  all  of  zedoary  ; 
the  finest  maces  are  the  flowers  ;  the  rind  is  sweet  smelling 
cinnamon  ;  and  the  fruit  is  clove  of  goodly  taste.  Cubebs 
are  not  lacking,  either.  There  are  roses  red  of  hue,  and 
lilies,  also,  fair  to  see.  They  never  fade  by  day  nor  by 
night,  this  should  be  a  pleasant  sight.  There  are  four 
wells  in  the  abbey,  made  of  triacle  and  aromatic  plants,  of 
balm  and  also  of  spiced  wine,  ever  fed  by  underground 
streams.  Precious  stones  and  gold  are  there,  sapphire, 
pearl,  carbuncle,  astrion,  emerald,  liguros  and  chrysoprase, 
beryl,  onyx  and  topaz,  amethyst  and  chrysolite,  chalcedony 
and  epetite.  There  are  many  birds, —  the  throstle,  thrush, 
and  nightingale,  the  lark  and  the  woodpecker,  and  other 
birds  without  number,  that  never  cease  singing  merrily 
day  nor  night. 


130  SATIRE 

More,  however,  there  is  to  tell  you ;  geese  roasted  on 
the  spit  fly  to  that  abbey  and  cry  :  "  Geese,  all  hot,  all 
hot."  They  bring  plenty  of  garlick,  the  best  you  could 
ever  look  for.  The  larks,  that  are  familiar  food,  light  in  a 
man's  mouth,  all  stewed  daintily  and  powdered  with  clove 
and  cinnamon.  There  is  never  any  question  of  drink,  but 
every  one  takes  enough,  yet  does  not  toil. 

When  the  monks  go  to  mass,  all  the  glass  windows 
turn  to  bright  crystal,  to  give  the  monks  more  light. 
When  the  masses  are  all  said,  the  crystal  turns  again  to 
glass,  in  the  state  that  it  was  before.  .  .  .  [The  rest  of 
the  poem  satirizes  the  morals  of  the  monks.] 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


THE  COMPLAINT  OF  THE  HUSBANDMAN1 

I  heard  men  upon  earth  make  many  a  moan, 

Of  how  they  were  harried  in  their  task  of  tilling : 
Good  years  and  grain  are  both  of  them  gone, 

We  enjoy  here  no  tales,  and  have  no  song  to  sing. 
Now  we  must  work,  no  way  else  is  known, 

I  may  no  longer  live  by  my  gleaning. 
Yet  even  a  bitterer  demand  has  upgrown, 

For  ever  the  fourth  penny  goes  to  the  king. 

Thus  we  complain  of  the  king  and  have  cares  that  are  cold  ; 

Though  we  dream  of  recovery  we  are  ever  downcast. 
He  who  has  any  goods  which  he  hoped  he  could  hold 

Learns  that  what  we  love  most  we  must  lose  at  the  last. 

Loath  are  we  to  lose  what  little  there  is, 

And  we  have  our  henchmen  who  will  for  pay  sue. 
The  hayward 2  bodes  harm  if  we  have  aught  of  his, 

The  bailiff  3  with  blows  shows  how  well  he  can  do, 
The  woodward 4  awaits  in  the  watched  wilderness  : 

Neither  riches  nor  rest  will  arise  for  us  few. 
Thus  they  pillage  the  poor,  who  have  little  of  bliss, 

And  must  sweat  at  their  toil  and  waste  away  too. 

He  must  needs  waste  away,  whatever  he  swore, 
Who  hath  not  a  hood  his  own  head  to  hide. 

Thus  will  walks  in  the  land,  and  law  is  no  more, 
And  picked  from  the  poor  is  the  persecutor's  pride. 

1  See  Notes.      2  hedge-warden,  over-seer.     3  under-steward.      4  wood-warden. 


132  SATIRE 

I 

Thus  they  pillage  the  poor  and  pick  them  all  clean, 

And  the  rich  men  are  ruling  without  any  right ; 
Their  lands  and  their  people  all  lie  very  lean, 

Through  demands  of  the  bailiffs  such  sorrows  alight. 
Men  of  religion  l  are  abject  and  mean 

As  are  baron  and  bondman,2  the  clerk  and  the  knight. 
Thus  will  walks  in  the  land  and  sorrow  is  seen, 

Falsehood  grows  fat  and  mars  all  with  his  might. 

He  stands  still  in  a  spot  and  shows  a  stern  soul, 

Who  makes  beggars  wander  with  long  staves  and  bags  ; 

Thus  we  are  hunted  from  hall  and  from  hole, 
And  those  who  wore  robes  are  now  wearing  rags. 

And  then  come  the  beadles  3  with  many  a  boast : 

"  Supply  me  with  silver  for  the  green  wax,4 
Thou  art  set  down  in  my  writ  as  thou  thyself  know'st," 

Yet  more  than  ten  times  have  I  paid  my  tax. 
Then  I  must  furnish  hens  for  the  roast, 

And  fairly,  each  fish  day,  have  lamprey  and  lax.5 
If  I  go  to  the  market,  I  lose,  at  the  most, 

Though  I  sell  my  bill 6  and  my  big  axe. 

I  may  place  my  pledge  well  if  I  will, 

Or  sell  my  corn  when  it 's  green  as  the  grass  ; 

Yet  I  am  a  foul  churl,  though  they  have  their  fill ; 

What  I  've  saved  all  the  year  I  must  spend  at  this  pass. 

Needs  must  I  spend  what  I  've  saved  from  of  yore, 
Against  the  coming  of  catchpoles  I  must  take  care  ; 

1  religious  orders.         3  over-seers.  5  salmon. 

2  peasant.  4  wax  for  king's  seal.        6  implement  for  pruning. 


COMPLAINT  OF  THE  HUSBANDMAN        133 

The  master  beadle  comes  in  like  a  brutish  boar 
And  says  he  will  make  my  dwelling  all  bare, 

So  then  I  must  bribe  him,  with  one  mark  or  more, 
Although  I  at  the  set  day  should  sell  my  own  mare ; 

Thus  the  green  wax  grieves  us  neath  our  garments  poor, 
So  that  men  hunt  us  as  hound  does  the  hare. 

They  hunt  us  as  hound  does  a  hare  on  a  hill  ; 

Since  I  took  to  the  land  such  woe  I  've  been  taught. 
The  beadles  have  never  had  quite  all  their  fill, 

For  they  slip  away,  and  it 's  we  who  are  caught. 

Thus  I  catch  and  I  carry  cares  that  are  cold, 

Since  I  have  had  cottage  and  reckoning  to  keep. 
To  seek  silver  for  the  king,  my  seed  I  have  sold, 

And  my  land  has  lain  fallow  and  learned  how  to  sleep. 
Since  they  took  my  fair  cattle  away  from  the  fold, 

When  I  think  of  old  joys  I  am  ready  to  weep  ; 
Thus  are  bred  so  many  of  these  beggars  bold, 

And  our  rye  is  rotten  and  rank  ere  we  reap. 

Rank  is  our  rye  and  rotten  in  the  straw, 

Because  of  foul  weather  by  brook  and  by  shore ; 

Thus  wakes  in  this  world  the  worst  woe  men  e'er  saw, 
As  well  waste  all  away,  as  work  thus  evermore. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


SIR  PENNY1 

On  earth  there  is  a  little  thing 
That  reigns  as  does  the  richest  king, 

In  this  and  every  land  ; 
Sir  Penny  is  his  name,  we  're  told, 
He  compels  both  young  and  old 

To  bow  unto  his  hand. 

Popes  and  kings  and  emperors, 
Bishops,  abbots,  too,  and  priors, 

Parson,  priest,  and  knight, 
Barons,  earls,  and  dukes,  also, 
Gladly  in  his  service  go, 

Both  by  day  and  night. 

Sir  Penny  changes  a  man's  mood 
And  makes  him,  often,  don  his  hood 

And  rise  and  stand  again. 
Men  honor  him  with  reverence 
And  give  utmost  obedience 

Unto  that  little  swain. 

In  the  king's  court  it  is  no  gain 
Against  Sir  Penny  to  complain, 

So  great  is  he  in  might ; 
He  is  so  witty  and  so  strong 
That  be  a  matter  ever  so  wrong 

He  will  make  it  right. 

1  See  Notes. 
134 


SIR  PENNY  135 

With  Penny  women  may  be  won 
By  those  men  they  once  did  shun, 

As  often  may  be  seen  ; 
Long  with  him  they  will  not  chide, 
For  he  can  help  them  trail  aside, 

In  good  scarlet  and  green. 

He  may  buy  both  heaven  and  hell 
And  everything  there  is  to  sell, 

Such  grace  he  has  on  earth. 
He  may  loose  and  he  may  bind  ; 
The  poor  are  ever  put  behind, 

When  he  comes  to  a  place. 

When  he  begins  to  take  control, 
He  makes  meek  the  cruel  soul 

And  weak  who  bold  has  been ; 
All  men's  needs  are  quickly  sped, 
Without  pledge  or  bail  to  dread, 

Where  he  is  go-between. 

The  justices  he  makes  so  blind 
They  are  unable  right  to  find 

Or  even  truth  to  see  ; 
To  give  judgment  they  are  loath, 
If  it  should  make  Sir  Penny  wroth, 

For  dear  to  them  is  he. 

Where  strife  was,  Penny  soon  makes  peace ; 
From  anger  he  will  bring  release, 
As  long  as  men  will  spend  ; 


1 36  SATIRE 

Of  foes  he  makes  friends  most  true, 
His  counsel  they  will  never  rue 
Who  have  him  for  friend. 

That  lord  is  set  above  us  all 
And  richly  served  within  the  hall 

At  the  festal  board  ; 
The  more  he  gives  men  plenteously, 
The  more  beloved  always  is  he, 

And,  by  a  host,  adored. 

He  makes  many  be  forsworn 

Who  in  body  and  soul  are  made  forlorn 

By  following  after  him. 
Other  god  they  will  not  have, 
Except  that  little  and  round  knave, 

To  end  their  sorrows  grim. 

On  him  alone  they  set  their  hearts, 
And  no  man  from  his  love  departs, 

Neither  for  good  nor  ill. 
All  that  he  will  on  earth  have  done 
Is  granted  soon  by  everyone 

According  to  his  will. 

Penny  is  a  good  fellow  ; 

Men  greet  him  in  deed  and  word,  also, 

Whenever  he  comes  near ; 
He  is  not  welcomed  as  a  guest, 
But  always  served  with  what  is  best, 

A  soft  seat  and  good  cheer. 


SIR  PENNY  137 

Whoever  falls  in  any  need, 

With  Penny's  help  will  win  good  speed, 

Whatever  may  betide ; 
He  that  is  Penny's  friend,  withal, 
Shall  have  his  will  in  steed  and  stall 

When  others  are  set  aside. 

Sir  Penny  gives  men  richest  weeds, 
And  many  men  may  ride  his  steeds 

In  this  world  so  wide. 
In  every  game  and  every  play 
The  mastery  is  given  aye 

To  Penny  for  his  pride. 

Sir  Penny  always  wins  the  prize 
Wherever  towers  and  castles  rise 

By  town  or  country  way  ; 
Without  either  spear  or  shield 
He  is  the  best  in  wood  or  field, 

Most  stalwart  in  the  fray. 

In  every  place  this  truth  is  seen, 

Sir  Penny  rules  both  great  and  mean  ; 

Most  masterful  is  he  ; 
And  all  is  as  he  does  command  ; 
Against  his  will  no  man  dare  stand, 

Neither  on  land  or  sea. 

Sir  Penny's  counsel  gives  great  aid 
To  those  who  have  his  law  obeyed, 
As  the  assizes  show. 


138  SATIRE 

He  lengthens  life  and  saves  from  death, 
But  love  him  not  o'er  well,  God  saith, 
For  covetousness  is  woe. 

If  thou  shouldst  chance  treasure  to  win, 
Delight  thee  not  too  much  therein, 

Nor  proud  nor  haughty  be  ; 
But  spend  all  as  a  Christian  can, 
So  that  thou  mayst  love  God  and  man 

In  perfect  charity. 

God  grant  us  grace,  with  heart  and  will, 
The  goods  that  he  is  giving,  still 

Well  and  wisely  to  spend  ; 
And  our  lives  here  so  to  lead, 
That  we  may  have  His  bliss  for  meed, 

Ever  without  an  end. 

Translated  by  M.  H.  S. 


LAY 


SIR  ORFEO 


SIR  ORFEO1 

Orfeo  was  a  king, 

In  Inglond  an  heighe  lording, 

A  stalworth  man  and  hardi  bo,2 

Large  and  curteys,  he  was  al  so ; 

His  fader  was  comen  of  king  Pluto, 

And  his  moder  of  king  Juno, 

That  sum  time  were  as  godes  y  hold, 

For  aventours  that  thai  dede  and  told. 

This  king  sojurned  in  Traciens, 

That  was  a  cite  of  noble  defens, 

For  Winchester  was  cleped  3  tho 

Traciens,  with  outen  no. 

The  king  hadde  a  quen  of  priis, 

That  was  y  cleped  dame  Herodis. 

The  fairest  levedi 4  for  the  nones  5 

That  might  gon  on  bodi  and  bones, 

Ful  of  love  and  godenisse 

Ac  no  man  may  telle  hir  fairnise. 

Bifel  so  in  the  comessing  of  May, 
When  miri  and  hot  is  the  day, 
And  oway  beth  winter  schours, 
And  everi  feld  is  ful  of  flours, 
And  blosme  breme 6  on  everi  bough, 
Over  al  wexeth  miri  anough, 
This  ich 7  quen  dame  Heurodis, 

1  See  Notes.  3  called.  6  time.  "  same. 

2  both.  4  lady.  8  bright,  vigorous. 

141 


142  LAY 


Tok  to  maidens  of  priis, 

And  went  in  an  undren  tide x 

To  play  bi  an  orchard  side 

To  se  the  floures  sprede  and  spring, 

And  to  here  the  foules  sing : 

Thai  sett  hem  doun  al  thre, 

Under  a  fair  ympe  2  tre, 

And  wel  sone  this  fair  quene, 

Fel  on  slepe  opon  the  grene. 

The  maidens  durst  hir  nought  awake, 

Bot  let  hir  ligge  and  rest  take, 

So  sche  slepe  til  after  none, 

That  under  tide  was  al  y  done  ; 

Ac  as  sone  as  sche  gan  awake, 

Sche  crid  and  lothli  bere  gan  make ; 

Sche  froted  3  hir  honden  and  hir  fet, 

And  crached  her  visage,  it  blede  wete, 

Hir  riche  robe  hye  al  to  rett,4 

And  was  reneyd  5  out  of  hir  witt. 

The  two  maidens  hir  biside 

No  durst  with  hir  no  leng  abide, 

But  ourn  6  to  the  palays  ful  right, 

And  told  bothe  squier  and  knight, 

That  her  quen  awede 7  wold, 

And  bad  hem  go  and  hir  at  hold. 

Knightes  urn,6  and  levedis  al  so, 

Damisels  sexti  and  mo, 

In  the  orchard  to  the  quen  hye  come, 

And  her  up  in  her  armes  nome,8 


1  forenoon. 

3  rubbed,  wrung. 

5  removed. 

7  away, 

2  grafted. 

4  rent. 

6  ran. 

8  took. 

SIR  ORFEO  143 

And  brought  hir  to  bed  attelast, 

And  held  hir  there  fine  fast ; 

Ac  ever  sche  held  in  o  cri 

And  wold  up  and  owy. 

When  Orfeo  herd  that  tiding 

Never  him  nas  wers  for  no  thing ; 

He  come  with  knightes  tene 

To  chaumber  right  bifor  the  quene, 

And  biheld  and  seyd  with  grete  pite  : 

O  lef 1  liif,  what  is  te,2 

That  ever  yete  hast  ben  so  stille, 

And  now  gredest 3  wonder  schille 4 ; 

Thi  bodi,  that  was  so  white  y  core,5 

With  thine  nailes  is  al  to  tore, 

Alias  !  thi  rode,6  that  was  so  red, 

Is  al  wan  as  thou  were  ded  ; 

And  also  thine  fingres  smale, 

Beth  al  blodi  and  al  pale  ; 

Alias  !  thi  lovesum  eyghen 7  to 

Loketh  so  man  doth  on  his  fo  ; 

A  dame,  Ich  biseche  merci, 

Let  ben  al  this  reweful  cri, 

And  tel  me  what  the  is,  and  hou, 

And  what  thing  may  the  help  now  ? 

Tho  lay  sche  stille  attelast, 

And  gan  to  wepe  swithe  8  fast, 

And  seyd  thus  the  king  to  : 

Alias  !  mi  lord,  sir  Orfeo, 

Seththen 9  we  first  to  gider  were, 

1  dear.  3  criest.  5  before.  7  eyes.  9  since. 

2  thee.  4  shrill.  6  complexion.  8  very. 


144  LAY 

Ones  wroth  never  we  nere, 

Bot  ever  Ich  have  y  loved  the 

As  mi  liif,  and  so  thou  me, 

Ac  now  we  mot 1  delen  ato, 

Do  thi  best,  for  y  mot  go. 

Alias  !  quath  he,  forlorn  Ich  am, 

Whider  wiltow  go  and  to  wham  ? 

Whider  thou  gost  Ichil  with  the, 

And  whider  Y  go  thou  schalt  with  me. 

Nay,  nay,  sir,  that  nought  nis, 

Ichil  the  telle  al  how  it  is  : 

As  Ich  lay  this  under  tide, 

And  slepe  under  our  orchard  side, 

Ther  come  to  me  to  fair  knightes 

Wele  y  armed  al  to  rightes, 

And  bad  me  comen  an  heighing,2 

And  speke  with  her  lord  the  king ; 

And  Ich  answerd  at  wordes  bold, 

Y  durst  nought,  no  y  nold. 

Thai  priked  oghain  3  as  thai  might  drive, 

Tho  com  her  king  also  blive, 

With  an  hundred  knightes  and  mo, 

And  damissels  an  hundred  al  so  ; 

Al  on  snowe  white  stedes, 

As  white  as  milke  were  her  wedes, 

Y  no  seighe  never  yete  bifore 
So  fair  creatours  y  core  ! 

The  king  hadde  a  croun  on  hed, 
It  nas  of  silver,  no  of  gold  red, 
Ac  it  was  of  a  precious  ston  ; 

1  must.  2  directly.  s  again. 


SIR  ORFEO  145 

As  bright  as  the  sonne  it  schon  : 

And  as  son  as  he  to  me  cam, 

Wold  Ich,  nold  Ich,  he  me  nam, 

And  made  me  with  him  ride, 

Opon  a  palfray  bi  his  side, 

And  brought  me  to  his  pallays, 

Wele  atird  in  ich  ways  ; 

And  schewed  me  castels  and  tours, 

Rivers,  forestes,  frith  J  with  flours  ; 

And  his  riche  stedes  2  ichon, 

And  seththen  me  brought  oghain  horn, 

In  to  our  owhen  orchard, 

And  said  to  me  after  ward  : 

Loke  dame,  to  morwe  thatow  be 

Right  here  under  this  ympe  tre  ; 

And  than  thou  schalt  with  ous  go 

And  live  with  ous  ever  mo, 

And  yif  thou  makest  ous  y  let, 

Where  thou  be,  thou  worst  y  f et 3 

And  to  tore  thine  limes  al, 

That  nothing  help  the  no  schal, 

And  thei  thou  best  so  to  torn 

Yete  thou  worst  with  ous  y  born. 

When  king  Orfeo  herd  this  cas, 
Owe!4  quath  he,  alias  !  alias  ! 
Lever  me  were  to  lete  5  mi  liif , 
Than  thus  to  lese  the  quen  mi  wiif, 
He  asked  conseyl  at  ich  man, 
Ac  no  man  him  help  no  can. 
A  morwe  the  under  tide  is  come 

1  forest.  2  places.  3  taken.  4  woe.  5  lose. 


146  LAY 

And  Orfeo  hath  his  armes  y  nome, 

And  wele  ten  hundred  knightes  with  him, 

Ich  y  armed  stout  and  grim  ; 

And  with  the  quen  wenten  he, 

Right  unto  that  ympe  tre. 

Thai  made  scheltrom  1  in  ich  aside, 

And  sayd  thai  wold  ther  abide, 

And  dye  ther  everichon, 

Er  the  quen  schuld  fram  hem  gon  : 

Ac  yete  amiddes  hem  ful  right, 

The  quen  was  oway  y  twight,2 

With  fairi  forth  y  nome, 

Men  wist  never  wher  sche  was  bicome. 

Tho  was  ther  criing,  wepe  and  wo, 

The  king  into  his  chamber  is  go, 

And  oft  swoned  opon  the  ston 

And  made  swiche  diol 3  and  swiche  mon, 

That  neighe  his  liif  was  y  spent ; 

Ther  was  non  amendement. 

He  cleped  to  gider  his  barouns, 

Erls,  lordes  of  renouns, 

And  when  thai  al  y  comen  were : 

Lordinges,  he  said,  bifor  you  here 

Ich  ordainy  min  heigh  steward 

To  wite4  mi  kingdom  after  ward, 

In  mi  stede  ben  he  schal, 

To  kepe  mi  londes  over  al, 

For  now  Ichave  mi  quen  y  lore,5 

The  fairest  levedi  that  ever  was  bore  ; 

Never  eft  y  nil  no  woman  se, 

i  defence.  2  taken.  3  dole.  4  order.  5  lost. 


SIR  ORFEO  147 

Into  wildernes  Ichil  te,1 

And  live  ther  ever  more, 

With  wilde  bestes  in  holtes  2  hore  ; 

And  when  ye  under  stond  that  y  be  spent, 

Make  you  than  a  parlement, 

And  chese  you  a  newe  king  : 

Now  doth  your  best  with  al  mi  thing. 

Tho  was  ther  wepeing  in  the  halle, 
And  grete  cri  among  hem  alle  ; 
Unnethe  3  might  old  or  yong 
For  wepeing  speke  a  word  with  tong. 
Thai  kneled  adoun  al  y  fere,4 
And  praid  him  yif  his  wille  were, 
That  he  no  schuld  nought  from  hem  go. 
Do  way  !  quath  he,  it  schal  be  so  : 
All  his  kingdom  he  forsoke, 
But  a  sclavin  5  on  him  he  toke  ; 
He  no  hadde  kirtel,  no  hode, 
Schert,  no  nother  gode, 
Bot  his  harp  he  toke  algate,6 
And  dede  him  barfot  out  atte  gate  : 
No  man  most  with  him  go. 
O  way  !  what  ther  was  wepe  and  wo, 
When  he  that  hadde  ben  king  with  croun, 
Went  so  poverlich  out  of  toun. 
Thurch  wode,  and  over  heth, 
Into  the  wildernes  he  geth, 
Nothing  he  fint  that  him  is  ays,7 
Bot  ever  he  liveth  in  gret  malais 8 ; 

1  roam.  8  scarcely.  5  pilgrim's  robe.  7  ease. 

2  woods.  4  together.  8  however.  8  discomfort. 


148  LAY 

He  that  hadde  y  werd  the  fowe 1  and  griis,2 

And  on  bed  the  purper  biis,3 

Now  on  hard  hethe  he  lith, 

With  leves  and  gresse  he  him  writh  4 : 

He  that  hadde  castels,  and  tours, 

River,  forest,  frith  with  flours  ; 

Now,  thei  it  commenci  to  snewe  and  frese, 

This  king  mot  make  his  bed  in  mese  5 : 

He  that  had  y  had  knightes  of  priis. 

Bifor  him  kneland,  and  levedis, 

Now  seth  he  no  thing  that  him  liketh, 

Bot  wild  wormes  by  him  striketh  : 

He  that  had  y  had  plente 

Of  mete  and  drink,  of  ich  deynte, 

Now  may  he  al  day  digge  and  wrote,6 

Er  he  finde  his  fille  of  rote  ; 

In  somer  he  liveth  bi  wild  frut, 

And  berren,  bot  gode  lite  ; 

In  winter  may  he  no  thing  finde, 

Bot  rote,  grases,  and  the  rinde ; 

Al  his  bodi  was  oway  dwine 

For  missays,  and  al  to  chine,7 

Lord  !  who  may  telle  the  sore 

This  king  sufferd  ten  yere  and  more  : 

His  here  of  his  berd,  blac  and  rowe,8 

To  his  girdel  stede  was  growe  ; 

His  harp,  where  on  was  al  his  gle, 

He  hidde  in  an  holwe  tre ; 

And,  when  the  weder  was  clere  and  bright, 

1  fur  (variegated).  3  linen.  5  moss  (?).  7  shrunken. 

2  fur  (gray).  4  wraps.  6  grub.  8  rough. 


SIR  ORFEO  149 

He  toke  his  harp  to  him  wel  right, 

And  harped  at  his  owhen  wille, 

Into  alle  the  wode  the  soun  gan  schille, 

That  alle  the  wilde  bestes  that  ther  beth, 

For  joie  abouten  him  thai  teth  x ; 

And  all  the  foules  that  ther  were, 

Come  and  sete  on  ich  a  brere ; 

To  here  his  harping  a  fine,2 

So  miche  melody  was  ther  in. 

And  when  he  his  harping  lete  wold, 

No  best  bi  him  abide  nold. 

He  might  se  besides 
Oft  in  hot  under  tides, 
The  king  o  fairy,  with  his  rout, 
Com  to  hunt  him  al  about : 
With  dim  cri  and  bloweing, 
And  houndes  also  with  him  berking ; 
Ac  no  best  thai  no  nome, 
No  never  he  nist  whider  thai  bi  come. 
And  other  while  he  might  him  se 
As  a  gret  ost  bi  him  te, 
Wele  atourned  3  ten  hundred  knightes, 
Ich  y  armed  to  his  rightes  ; 
Of  cuntenaunce  stout  and  fers, 
With  mani  displaid  baners  ; 
And  ich  his  swerd  y  drawe  hold : 
Ac  never  he  nist  whider  thai  wold. 
And  other  while  he  seighe  other  thing : 
Knightes  and  levedis  com  daunceing, 
In  queynt  atire  gisely, 

1  gather.  2  at  last.  3  about. 


1 50  LAY 

Queyitt  pas,  and  softly  : 
Tabours  and  trimpes  yede  him  bi, 
And  al  maner  menstraci. 

And  on  a  day  he  seighe  him  biside 
Sexti  levdis  on  hors  ride, 
Gentil  and  jolif,  as  brid  on  ris  1 ; 
Nought  o  man  amonges  hem  ther  nis ; 
And  ich  a  faucoun  on  hond  bere, 
And  riden  on  haukin  bi  o  rivere, 
Of  game  thai  founde  wel  gode  haunt, 
Maulardes,  hayroun,  and  cormeraunt ; 
The  foules  of  the  water  ariseth, 
The  faucouns  hem  wele  deviseth, 
Ich  faucoun  his  pray  slough  : 
That  seighe  Orfeo,  and  lough. 
Par  fay,  quath  he,  ther  is  fair  game ! 
Thider  Ichil  bi  Godes  name, 
Ich  was  y  won 2  swiche  werk  to  se. 
He  aros,  and  thider  gan  te  ; 
To  a  levedi  he  was  y  come, 
Biheld,  and  hath  wele  under  nome, 
And  seth,  bi  al  thing,  that  it  is 
His  owhen  quen  dam  Heurodis. 
Yern  he  biheld  hir,  and  sche  him  eke, 
Ac  noither  to  other  a  word  no  speke  : 
For  messais  that  sche  on  him  seighe, 
That  had  ben  so  riche  and  so  heighe, 
The  teres  fel  out  of  her  eighe  ; 
The  other  levedis  this  y  seighe, 
And  maked  hir  oway  to  ride, 

1  branch.  2  accustomed. 


SIR  ORFEO  151 

Sche  most  with  him  no  lenger  abide. 

Alias  !  quath  he,  now  me  is  wo  ! 

Whi  nil  deth  now  me  slo, 

Alias  !  wroche,  that  Y  no  might 

Dye  now,  after  this  sight ! 

Alias  !  to  long  last  mi  liif 

When  Y  no  dar  nought  with  mi  wiif, 

No  hye  to  me,  o  word  speke, 

Alias  !  whi  nil  min  hert  breke  ! 

Parfay,  quath  he,  tide  what  bitide, 

Whider  so  this  levedis  ride, 

The  selve  way  Ichil  streche, 

Of  liif,  no  deth,  me  no  reche. 

His  sclavin  he  dede  on,  all  so  spac,1 

And  henge  his  harp  upon  his  bac, 

And  had  wel  gode  will  to  gon ; 

He  no  spard  noither  stub  no  ston. 

In  at  a  roche  the  levedis  rideth, 

And  he  after,  and  nought  abideth  ; 

When  he  was  in  the  roche  y  go, 

Wele  thre  mile,  other  mo, 

He  com  in  to  a  fair  cuntray, 

As  bright  so  sonne  on  somers  day, 

Smothe,  and  plain,  and  al  grene ; 

Hille,  no  dale  nas  ther  non  y  sene  ; 

Amidde  the  lond  a  castel  he  sighe, 

Riche,  and  real,2  and  wonder  heighe ; 

Al  the  ut  mast  wal, 

Was  cler  and  schine  as  cristal ; 

And  hundred  tours  ther  were  about, 

1  speedily  (?).  2  royal. 


152  LAY 

Degiselich  1  and  bataild  stout ; 

The  butras  com  out  of  the  diche, 

Of  rede  gold  y  arched  riche, 

The  bonsour  2  was  avowed  3  al, 

Of  ich  maner  divers  animal ; 

With  in  ther  wer  wide  wones,4 

Al  of  precious  stones, 

The  werst  piler  on  to  biholde, 

Was  al  of  burnist  gold  ; 

Al  that  lond  was  ever  light, 

For  when  it  schuld  be  therk  5  and  night, 

The  riche  stones  6  light  gonne, 

As  bright  as  doth  at  none  the  sonne, 

No  man  may  telle,  no  thenche  in  thought, 

The  riche  werk  that  ther  was  wrought, 

Bi  al  thing,  him  think  that  it  is 

The  proude  court  of  paradis. 

In  this  castel  the  levedis  alight, 

He  wold  in  after,  yif  he  might. 

Orfeo  knokketh  atte  gate, 
The  porter  was  redi  ther  ate, 
And  asked,  what  he  wold  have  y  do. 
Parfay,  quath  he,  Icham  a  minstrel  lo, 
To  solas  thi  lord  with  my  gle, 
Yif  his  swete  wille  be. 
The  porter  undede  the  gate  anon, 
And  lete  him  in  to  the  castel  gon. 

Than  he  gan  bihold  about  al, 
And  seighe  full  liggeand 7  with  in  the  wal, 

1  grandly.         3  adorned.  6dark(?).  7  lying. 

2  front.  4  dwellings.        6  sapphires  are  mentioned  in  one  version. 


SIR  ORFEO  153 

Of  folk  that  were  thider  y  brought, 

And  thought  dede  and  nare  nought : 

Sum  stode  with  outen  hade  1 ; 

And  sum  on  armes  nade  ; 2 

And  sum  thurch  the  bodi  hadde  wounde ; 

And  sum  lay  wode  3  y  bounde ; 

And  sum  armed  on  hors  sete  ; 

And  sum  astrangled  as  thai  ete ; 

And  sum  were  in  water  adreynt 4 ; 

And  sum  with  fire  al  for  schreynt 5 ; 

Wives  ther  lay  on  child  bedde  ; 

Sum  ded,  and  sum  awedde  6  ; 

And  wonder  fele  ther  lay  bisides, 

Right  as  thai  slepe  her  under  tides  ; 

Eche  was  thus  in  this  warld  y  nome, 

With  fairi  thider  y  come. 

Ther  he  seighe  his  owhen  wiif, 

Dame  Heurodis  his  liif  liif 

Slepe  under  an  ympe  tre  ; 

Bi  her  clothes  he  knewe  that  it  was  he. 

And  when  he  hadde  bihold  this  mervails  alle, 
He  went  in  to  the  kinges  halle  ; 
Then  seighe  he  ther  a  semly  sight, 
A  tabernacle  blisseful  and  bright  • 
Ther  in  her  maister  king  sete, 
And  her  quen  fair  and  swete ; 
Her  crounes,  her  clothes,  schine  so  bright, 
That  unnethe  bihold  he  hem  might. 
When  he  hadde  biholden  al  that  thing, 
He  kneled  adoun  bifor  the  king ; 

ihead.        2  had  no  arms.        8  mad.        4  drowned.        5  withered.        6mad(?). 


154  LAY 

O  Lord,  he  seyd,  yif  it  thi  wille  were, 
Mi  menstraci  thou  schust  y  here. 
The  king  answerd,  what  man  artow, 
That  art  hider  y  comen  now  ? 
Ich,  no  non  that  is  with  me, 
No  sent  never  after  the. 
Seththen  that  ich  here  regni  gan, 

Y  no  fond  never  so  fole  hardi  man 
That  hider  to  ous  durst  wende, 
Bot  that  Ichim  walde  of  sende. 
Lord,  quath  he,  trowe  ful  wel, 

Y  nam  bot  a  pover  menstrel, 
And,  sir,  it  is  the  maner  of  us, 
To  seche  mani  a  lordes  hous, 
Thei  we  nought  welcom  no  be, 
Yete  we  mot  proferi  forth  our  gle. 

Bifor  the  king  he  sat  adoun 
And  tok  his  harp  so  miri  of  soun, 
And  tempreth  his  harp  as  he  wel  can, 
And  blisseful  notes  he  ther  gan, 
Tharal  that  in  the  paleys  were, 
Com  to  him  for  to  here, 
And  liggeth  adoun  to  his  fete, 
Hem  thenketh  his  melody  so  swete. 
The  king  herkneth,  and  sitt  ful  stille, 
To  here  his  gle  he  hath  gode  wille. 
Gode  bourde  *  he  hadde  of  his  gle, 
The  riche  quen  al  so  hadde  he. 
When  he  hadde  stint 2  his  harping, 
Than  seyd  to  him  the  king, 

1  sport.  2  ceased. 


SIR  ORFEO  155 

Menstrel,  me  liketh  wele  thi  gle, 
Now  aske  of  me  what  it  be, 
Largelich  Ichil  the  pay, 
Now  speke,  and  tow  might  asay. 
Sir,  he  seyd,  Ich  beseche  the, 
Thatow  woldest  give  me, 
That  ich  levedi  bright  on  ble,1 
That  slepeth  under  the  ympe  tre. 
Nay,  quath  the  king,  that  nought  nere, 
A  sori  couple  of  you  it  were, 
For  thou  art  lene,  rowe,  and  blac, 
And  sche  is  lovesome  with  outen  lac ; 
A  lothlich  thing  it  were  forthi,2 
To  sen  hir  in  thi  compayni. 

O  sir,  he  seyd,  gentil  king, 
Yete  were  it  a  wele  fouler  thing 
To  here  a  lesing 3  of  thy  mouthe, 
So,  sir,  as  ye  seyd  nouthe,4 
What  Ich  wold  aski  have  Y  schold  ; 
And  nedes  thou  most  thi  word  hold. 
The  king  seyd,  seththen  it  is  so, 
Take  hir  bi  the  hand,  and  go  ; 
Of  hir  Ichil  thatow  be  blithe. 
He  kneled  adoun,  and  thonked  him  swithe.5 
His  wiif  he  tok  bi  the  hond 
And  dede  him  swithe  6  out  of  that  lond  ; 
And  went  him  out  of  that  thede,7 
Right  as  he  came  the  way  he  yede.8 
So  long  he  hath  the  way  y  nome, 

1  hue.  3  lie.  5  warmly.  7  people,  land. 

2  therefore.  4  just  now.  6  quickly.  8  went. 


1 56  LAY 

To  Winchester  he  is  y  come, 

That  was  his  owhen  cite, 

Ac  no  man  knewe  that  it  was  he, 

No  forther  than  the  tounes  ende, 

For  knoweleche  no  durst  wende, 

Bot  with  a  begger  y  bilt  ful  narwe, 

Ther  he  tok  his  herbarwe,1 

To  him,  and  to  his  owhen  wiif, 

As  a  minstrel  of  pover  liif, 

And  asked  tidings  of  that  lond, 

And  who  the  kingdom  held  in  hond. 

The  pover  begger,  in  his  cote,2 

Told  him  everich  a  grot3 

How  her  quen  was  stole  owy, 

Ten  yer  gon  with  fairy, 

And  how  her  king  en  exile  yede, 

Bot  no  man  niste  in  wiche  thede, 

And  how  the  steward  the  lond  gan  hold, 

And  other  mani  thinges  him  told. 

A  morwe  ogain  none  tide 
He  maked  his  wiif  ther  abide, 
The  beggers  clothes  he  borwed  anon, 
And  heng  his  harp  his  rigg  4  opon, 
And  went  him  in  to  that  cite, 
That  men  might  him  bi  hold  and  se. 
Erls,  and  barouns  bold, 
Burjays,  and  levedis,  him  gun  bi  hold ; 
Lo  !  thai  seyd,  swiche  a  man, 
Hou  long  the  here  hongeth  him  opan  ! 
Lo !  hou  his  berd  hongeth  to  his  kne, 

1  harbor.  2  cottage.  3  bit.  4  back. 


SIR  ORFEO  157 

He  is  y  clongen 1  al  so  a  tre. 
And  as  he  yede  in  the  strete, 
With  his  steward  he  gan  mete, 
And  loude  he  sett  on  him  a  crie, 
Sir  steward,  he  seyd,  merci, 
Icham  an  harpour  of  hethenisse, 
Helpe  me  now  in  this  distresse ! 
The  steward  seyd,  com  with  me,  come, 
Of  that  Ichave  thou  schalt  have  some  ; 
Everich  gode  harpour  is  welcom  me  to, 
For  mi  lordes  love,  sir  Orfeo. 

In  the  castel  the  steward  sat  atte  mete, 
And  mani  lording  was  bi  him  sete ; 
There  were  trompour  and  tabourers, 
Harpours  fele,  and  crouders,2 
Miche  melody  thai  maked  alle, 
And  Orfeo  sat  stille  in  the  halle, 
And  herkneth  when  thai  ben  al  stille, 
He  toke  his  harp  and  tempred  schille, 
The  blifulest  notes  he  herped  there, 
That  ever  ani  man  y  herd  with  ere, 
Ich  man  liked  wel  his  gle. 
The  steward  biheld  and  gan  y  se, 
And  knewe  the  harp  als  blive ; 
Menstrel,  he  seyd,  so  mot  thou  thrive, 
Where  hadestow  this  harp,  and  hou  ? 
Ypray  that  thou  me  telle  now. 

Lord,  quath  he,  in  uncouthe  thede, 
Thurch  a  wildernes  as  Y  yede ; 
Ther  Y  founde  in  a  dale, 

1  withered.  2  players  on  the  crowd,  a  kind  of  violin. 


158  LAY 

With  lyouns  a  man  to  torn  smale, 

And  wolves  him  frete  *  with  teth  so  scharp ; 

Bi  him  Y  found  this  ich  harp, 

Wele  ten  yere  it  is  y  go. 

O  !  quath  the  steward,  now  me  is  wo ! 

That  was  mi  lord,  sir  Orfeo  ! 

Alias  !  wreche  what  schall  Y  do, 

That  have  swiche  a  lord  y  lore,2 

A  way,  that  Ich  was  y  bore, 

That  him  was  so  hard  grace  y  yarked,3 

And  so  vile  deth  y  marked  ! 

Adoun  he  fel  aswon  to  grounde, 

His  barouns  him  tok  up  in  that  stounde,4 

And  telleth  him  hou  it  geth, 

It  is  no  bot5  of  mannes  deth. 

King  Orfeo  knewe  wel  bi  than, 

His  steward  was  a  trewe  man, 

And  loved  him  as  he  aught  to  do, 

And  stont  up,  and  seyt  thus  lo, 

Steward,  herkne  now  this  thing, 

Yif  Ich  were  Orfeo  the  king, 

And  hadde  y  suffred  ful  yore, 

In  wildernisse  miche  sore  ; 

And  hadde  y  won  mi  quen  owy, 

Out  of  the  lond  of  fairy ; 

And  hadde  y  brought  the  levedi  hende,6 

Right  here  to  the  tounes  ende, 

And  with  a  begger  her  in 7  y  nome, 

And  were  mi  self  hider  y  come, 

Poverlich  to  the  thus  stille, 

1  ate.        2  lost.        3  given.        4  hour.        5  remedy.        6  gracious.        7  inn. 


SIR  ORFEO  159 

For  to  asay  thi  gode  wille  ; 

And  Ich  founde  the  thus  trewe, 

Thou  no  schust  it  never  rewe, 

Sikerlich  for  love,  or  ay,1 

Thou  schust  be  king  after  mi  day, 

And  yif  thou  of  my  deth  hadest  ben  blithe, 

Thou  schust  have  voided  al  so  swithe. 

Tho  al  tho  that  ther  in  sete, 
That  it  was  king  Orfeo  under  gete,2 
And  the  steward  him  wele  knewe, 
Over  and  over  the  bord  3  he  threwe, 
And  fel  adoun  to  his  fet ; 
So  dede  everich  lord  that  ther  sete, 
And  al  thai  sayd  at  o  criing, 
Ye  beth  our  lord,  sir,  and  our  king. 
Glad  thai  were  of  his  live, 
To  chaumber  thai  ladde  him  als  bilive,4 
And  bathed  him  and  schaved  his  berd, 
And  tired  him  as  a  king  apert 5  ; 
And  seththen  with  gret  processioun, 
Thai  brought  the  quen  in  to  the  toun, 
With  al  maner  menstraci ; 
Lord,  ther  was  grete  melody  ! 
For  joie  thai  wepe  with  her  eighe  ; 
That  hem  so  sounde  y  comen  seighe. 
Now  king  Orfeo  newe  coround  is, 
And  his  quen  dame  Heurodis  ; 
And  lived  long  afterward  ; 
And  seththen  was  king  the  steward. 
Harpours  in  Bretaine  after  than 

1  awe.  2  understood.  8  table.  4  quickly.  5  indeed. 


160  LAY 

Herd  hou  this  mervaile  bigan, 

And  made  her  of  a  lay  of  gode  likeing, 

And  nempned 1  it  after  the  king. 

That  lay  Orfeo  is  y  hote  2 ; 

Gode  is  the  lay,  swete  is  the  note. 

Thus  com  sir  Orfeo  out  of  his  care ; 

God  graunt  ous  alle  wele  to  fare  !  Amen. 

1  named.  2  called. 


NOTES 

Frontispiece.  "The  Last  Judgment"  is  an  early  work  by  Fra 
Angelico  (13S7-1455),  who  was  a  member  of  the  Dominican  order,  and 
who  spent  his  monastic  leisure  in  painting  visionary  scenes.  The  pic- 
ture represents  Christ  on  the  judgment  seat,  encircled  by  cherubim 
and  seraphim,  with  saints  and  apostles  seated  on  either  side.  Below 
are  open  graves.  On  His  left  devils  are  driving  sinners  into  hideous 
torments ;  on  His  right  angels  are  conducting  the  blessed  across  the 
flowery  meadows  of  the  earthly  paradise  toward  the  gleaming  gates  of 
the  celestial  city.  The  detail  given  here  is  sometimes  called  "  The  Dance 
of  the  Angels."  The  robes  of  the  angelic  beings  who  go  singing  and 
caroling  are  in  the  colors  characteristic  of  Fra  Angelico, — azure,  green, 
and  rose,  irradiated  by  countless  golden  stars. 

PROEM 

Of  Man's  Body.    Of  Man's  Soul 

This  introductory  bit  of  mediaeval  lore  is  translated  from  "  Cursor 
Mundi "  (Over-runner  of  the  World),  a  long  poem,  probably  written  in 
the  early  fourteenth  century.  The  author  says  plainly  at  the  beginning 
of  his  work  that  he  is  vying  with  romances  and  other  secular  tales 
which  draw  the  thoughts  of  men  away  from  spiritual  matters.  The 
poem,  written  in  24,000  verses  in  the  short  couplet,  tells  the  history  of 
the  seven  ages  of  the  world,  from  the  Creation  to  Doomsday,  covering 
very  much  the  same  matter  as  that  presented  in  the  miracle  plays.  The 
"  Cursor  Mundi "  has  been  edited  by  R.  Morris  for  the  Early  English 
Text  Society.    Lines  511-584  are  here  translated. 

DEBATE 
The  Amorous  Contention  of  Phillis  and  Flora 

"  De  Phillide  et  Flora,"  a  Latin  poem  of  the  twelfth  century,  perhaps, 
was  translated  about  1595  by  George  Chapman.  In  1598  a  certain 
"  R.  S."  republished  this  translation  with  a  few  minor  changes,  but  the 
work  is  essentially  Chapman's.  The  present  reprint  follows  the  text  in 
Thomas  Wright's  "  Latin  Poems  commonly  attributed  to  Walter  Mapes." 

161 


1 62  NOTES 

Camden  Society,  Vol.  XVI.  London,  1841.  The  translation  reproduces 
the  stanza  and  rime  form  of  the  original.  Although  the  Elizabethan 
language  may  present  some  difficulties,  they  are  not  very  serious  to 
any  one  who  will  read  slowly  enough  to  enjoy  "  the  proud  full  sail  of 
his  great  verse  "  who  may  have  been  the  rival  of  Shakespeare,  and 
who  was  certainly  one  of  the  inspirers  of  John  Keats. 

The  poem  itself  is  of  significance  because,  as  forerunner  of  poems 
of  the  order  of  "  The  Romance  of  the  Rose,"  it  illustrates  significant 
mediaeval  traits.  The  attitude  towards  nature,  classicism,  love,  war,  and 
learning  is  of  great  interest,  and  so,  too,  is  the  position  of  women  in 
that  sophisticated  world.  The  disputation  gives  a  pretty  picture  of  the 
seriousness  of  feminine  thought.  The  account  of  the  court  of  the  god 
of  love  and  the  power  ascribed  to  him  are  a  good  introduction  to  the 
conventions  of  love  poetry. 

Readers  of  Theocritus  will  recall  how  his  shepherds  contend  in  song 
over  the  charms  of  their  beloved  maidens,  in  Idyll  V  and  elsewhere. 
(See  Lang's  translation,  The  Macmillan  Company,  New  York,  1889.) 
A  study  of  the  evolution  of  the  debate,  or  disputation,  will  prove  a 
good  introduction  to  the  world  of  late  classical  and  of  mediaeval  litera- 
ture. There  are  many  examples  of  debate,  such  as  those  between  "  The 
Heart  and  the  Eye,"  "  The  Body  and  the  Soul,"  "  The  Water  and  the 
Wine,"  "  The  Owl  and  the  Nightingale,"  "  The  Thrush  and  the  Nightin- 
gale," "  The  Debate  of  the  Carpenter's  Tools,"  "  The  Dispute  between 
Mary  and  the  Cross,"  and  many  others.  Birds,  flowers,  animals,  inani- 
mate objects,  human  beings,  and  even  virtuous  abstractions  were  turned 
into  mediaeval  disputants. 

For  information  regarding  debates,  and  for  bibliographies  of  edited 
debates,  see 

Merrill,  E.  The  Dialogue  in  English  Literature.  Henry  Holt  and 
Company,  New  York,  191 1. 

Wells,  J.  E.,  Editor.  The  Owl  and  the  Nightingale,  p.  liii.  D.  C. 
Heath  &  Co.,  Boston,  1907. 

Schofield,  W.  H.  English  Literature  from  the  Norman  Conquest 
to  Chaucer,  p.  485.    The  Macmillan  Company,  New  York,  1906. 

The  Pleading  of  the  Rose  and  of  the  Violet 

Jean  Froissart  (1338-1410)  was  a  distinguished  French  author  who 
is  best  known  for  the  famous  "  Chronicles  of  England,  France,  and 
Spain,"  which  picture  with  extraordinary  vividness  scenes  which  Frois- 
sart actually  witnessed. 


NOTES  163 

In  1392,  probably,  Froissart  wrote  his  "  Plaidorie  de  la  Rose  et  de  la 
Violette,"  which  is  here  translated  from  his  "  Poesies,"  edited  in  three 
volumes,  with  an  excellent  introduction,  by  A.  Scheler,  Brussels,  1872. 
The  value  of  his  poetical  works  lies  in  their  revelation  of  the  literary 
taste  of  the  court  and  of  the  fashionable  world  of  the  day,  for  he  em- 
ployed the  artificial  sentiment  and  the  conventional  forms  of  dream  and 
allegory  very  pleasantly.  The  Plaidorie  is  not  a  famous  poem,  but  it  is 
chosen  because  it  serves  to  illustrate  a  combination  of  various  important 
traits.  It  is  one  of  the  many  mediaeval  poems  in  which  the  flower  motif 
is  preeminent.  Here  Froissart  introduces  rather  charming  personifica- 
tions, especially  significant  in  the  case  of  the  fleur-de-lys,  the  national 
flower  of  France.  In  spite  of  the  trivial  and  sentimental  attitude  towards 
nature  there  are  many  passages  of  genuine  feeling.  The  poem  should  be 
compared  with  Chaucer's  "  Prologue  to  the  Legend  of  Good  Women," 
where  the  cult  of  the  daisy  is  represented.  Valuable  aids  to  this  study 
will  be  found  in  the  following  articles  : 

Lowes,  J.  L.  The  Prologue  to  the  Legend  of  Good  Women  as  re- 
lated to  the  French  Marguerite  Poems.  Publicaticms  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association,  XIX,  593-683. 

Marsh,  G.  P.  The  Sources  of  the  Flower  and  the  Leaf.  Modern 
Philology,  IV,  121-167,  281-327. 

Furthermore,  the  jesting  mockery  of  legal  procedure  should  be  noted. 
Chaucer's  "Fortune"  employs  legal  phraseology,  and  although  Frois- 
sart's  poem  may  never  have  been  known  to  Chaucer,  the  use  of  the 
terms  and  the  associations  of  law  was  frequent  among  poets.  Readers 
of  Shakespeare's  "  Sonnets  "  will  recall  his  use  of  legal  imagery,  but  of 
course  he  was  uninfluenced  by  this  poem. 

VISION 

The  Purgatory  of  Saint  Patrick 

This  translation  is  a  free  rendering  of  a  poem  found  in  the  famous 
Auchinleck  manuscript,  a  collection  of  popular  poetry  copied  in  the 
fourteenth  century.  A  description  of  this  manuscript  will  be  found  in 
Scott's  edition  of  "  Sir  Tristem."  The  poem  is  in  the  six-line,  tail-rime 
stanza  which  was  much  used  in  romances  of  the  day.  There  are  other 
versions  of  this  legend  in  Latin,  in  French,  and  in  English.  Because 
of  its  detajlj..this  version,  of  the  late  thirteenth  century,  edited  by 
E.  Koelbing  in  Englische  Studien,  I,  98,  has  been  chosen,  although 
in  some  respects  it  is  inferior  in  style  to  the  other  English  versions. 


1 64  NOTES 

Especially  interesting  is  the  picture  of  the  earthly  paradise,  which  is 
nowhere  else  described  so  fully  as  it  is  here  by  catalogues  and  other 
means.  As  an  introduction  to  mediaeval  religious  beliefs  the  poem  is 
almost  unequaled.  Pilgrimages,  even  to  this  day,  are  made,  by  the  faith- 
ful, to  Lough  Derg,  in  Ireland,  where  Saint  Patrick's  Purgatory  is  still 
continuing  its  saving  grace. 

Students  of  comparative  literature  recognize  in  the  story  a  body  of 
tradition  reaching  back  into  remote  times  and  forward  to  the  Renais- 
sance, finding  its  most  perfect  expression  in  Dante's  "  Divine  Comedy" 
(1321).  Mediaeval  descriptions  of  hell  and  heaven  were  made  more  vivid 
by  adopting  the  literary  form  known  as  the  vision.  The  most  familiar 
sort  of  vision  is  that  which  describes  things  seen  in  a  dream,  after  the 
author  has  fallen  asleep.  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  is  an  example  of 
this  type.  Another  sort  of  vision  is  that  which  relates  what  has  been 
perceived  by  some  one  in  a  state  of  mystical  exaltation,  as  in  the 
Apocalypse  of  Saint  John.  The  most  realistic  form  of  vision  is  that  of 
"  Saint  Patrick's  Purgatory,"  where  the  experiences  are  described  as  if 
actually  undergone,  and  yet  they  so  transcend  human  probability  that 
the  reader  recognizes  the  apocalyptic  element.  The  term  "  vision  "  is 
usually  applied  to  poems  describing  mysteries  of  religious  or  moral 
truth,  and  "  dream  "  is  applied  to  secular  works  such  as  "  The  Ro- 
mance of  the  Rose,"  and  many  other  popular  poems.  Examples  of 
visions  from  various  epochs  should  be  read  in  order  to  trace  the  his- 
tory.  Easily  accessible  texts  in  translation  are 

St.  John.    Revelation.    (King  James  Version.) 

Homer.  Odyssey,  Book  XI  (translated  by  G.  H.  Palmer).  Houghton 
Mifflin  Company,  Boston,  1891. 

Virgil.  ^Eneid,  Book  VI  (translated  by  J.  Conington).  The  Mac- 
millan  Company,  New  York,  1910. 

Cicero.  Scipio's  Dream  (translated  by  C.  R.  Edmonds  in  the  Bohn 
Library  Cicero).    The  Macmillan  Company,  New  York. 

Bede.  The  Vision  of  Dryhthelm  (in  Cook  and  Tinker's  "  Old  Eng- 
lish Prose,"  p.  58).    Ginn  and  Company,  Boston,  1908. 

Dante.  The  Divine  Comedy  (translated  by  C.  E.  Norton).  Houghton 
Mifflin  Company,  Boston,  1893. 

The  Pearl  (translated  by  S.  Jewett).  Thomas  Y.  Crowell  Company, 
New  York,  1908. 

For  critical  studies  of  the  vision  and  for  exhaustive  bibliographies  of 
the  subject,  see 

Apocalypse.    Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 


NOTES  165 

Wright,  T.    Saint  Patrick's  Purgatory.    London,  1844. 

Krapp,  G.  P.  The  Legend  of  Saint  Patrick's  Purgatory.  John  Murphy 
Company,  Baltimore,  1900. 

Becker,  E.  Mediaeval  Visions  of  Heaven  and  Hell.  John  Murphy 
Company,  Baltimore,  1899. 

Langlois,  E.  Origines  et  sources  du  Roman  de  la  Rose,  chap.  v. 
Paris,  1890. 

For  information  regarding  the  dream  motif  in  mediaeval  poems,  see 

Owen,  D.  Piers  Plowman,  A  Comparison  with  some  Earlier  and 
Contemporary  French  Allegories,  pp.  134-167.  Hodder  and  Stoughton, 
London,  1912. 

Neilson,  W.  A.  The  Origins  and  Sources  of  the  Court  of  Love. 
(See  "Dream-setting"  in  the  index.)    Ginn  and  Company,  Boston,  1899. 

Accounts  of  purgatory  and  of  the  terrestrial  paradise  will  be  found 
in  "The  Catholic  Encyclopaedia."  Further  details  regarding  the  earthly 
paradise  are  in  Genesis  ii,  8-17;  Ezekiel  xxviii,  13;  "  Phcenix,"  in 
Cook  and  Tinker's  "  Old  English  Poetry  "  ;  "  Mandeville's  Travels," 
XXXIII,  and  in  Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost,"  IV.  Two  critical  studies  of 
importance  are 

Gould,  S.  B.    Curious  Myths  of  the  Middle  Ages.    London,  1874. 

Coli,  E.   II  Paradiso  Terrestre.    Florence,  1897 


SAINTS'  LIVES 

The  Life  of  Saint  Brandon 

Brandon,  Brendon,  or  Brandan,  was  an  Irish  Odysseus  whose  journey- 
ings  in  search  of  the  Land  of  Behest  have  a  lasting  fascination  for  all 
lovers  of  romantic  adventure.  The  atmosphere  of  sanctity  which  made 
this  legend  approved  reading  for  the  mediaeval  Christian  gives  a  quaint 
irony  to  the  accounts  of  fairies,  demons,  enchanted  birds,  and  other 
marvels  which  betray  a  frankly  superstitious  spirit.  Travelers'  records 
have  a  distinct  place  in  literature,  as  the  names  Ohthere,  Marco  Polo, 
Mandeville,  Hakluyt,  Robinson  Crusoe,  Stevenson,  Hearn  and  many 
others  prove,  and  when  the  voyage  is  undertaken  because  of  mingled 
love  of  excitement,  passion  for  the  sea,  zeal  for  discovery,  and  deep 
longing  to  find  the  ideal  land,  it  has  potent  appeal  to  those  who  stay  at 
home.  In  almost  every  language  there  are  tales  which  picture  an  earthly 
paradise.  The  Fortunate  Isles,  the  Garden  of  the  Hesperides,  Calypso's 
Isle,  Avalon,  Hy  Brasail,  Tir-na'n-Og,  are  names  given  in  Greek  and  in 


1 66  NOTES 

Celtic  story  to  the  abode  of  those  who  have  won  release  from  earthly 
cares  and  hardship,  and  have  entered  the  realm  of  perfect  terrestrial 
peace  and  beauty. 

The  translation  is  William  Caxton's  version  of  the  life  of  Brandon 
based  upon  some  source  not  yet  satisfactorily  determined.  Caxton's 
rather  rambling  but  most  charming  rendering  was  included  in  "  The 
Golden  Legend,"  mentioned  below. 

An  exhaustive  study  of  the  Irish  story  upon  which  this  legend  is 
based,  and  much  other  material  relating  to  this  theme,  will  be  found  in 
Meyer  and  Nutt's  "  The  Voyage  of  Bran.  Edited  and  translated  by 
K.  Meyer.  With  an  Essay  upon  the  Irish  Version  of  the  Happy  Other- 
world  and  the  Celtic  Doctrine  of  Rebirth,  by  A.  Nutt."  2  vols.,  David 
Nutt,  London,  1895.  Interesting  also  in  connection  with  Brandon  is 
the  story  of  Sindbad,  in  "  The  Arabian  Nights." 

The  Life  of  Saint  Margaret 

Jacobus  de  Voragine  (1 230-1 298),  Archbishop  of  Genoa,  was  the 
author  of  "  Historia  Lombardica  seu  Legenda  Sanctorum,"  popularly 
known  as  "  Legenda  Aurea."  When  William  Caxton  set  up  his  printing 
press  and  began  to  multiply  copies  of  the  English  classics,  he  included 
among  his  publications  an  English  rendering  of  the  Latin  text,  "  The 
Golden  Legend,"  (1483),  which  he  based  upon  a  French  translation. 
The  present  version  is  from  Caxton's  text,  as  printed  in  the  Temple 
Classics. 

The  great  popularity  of  lives  of  the  saints  is  due  partly  to  that  trait, 
inherent  in  human  nature,  of  genuine  devotion  to  any  one  of  proved 
courage,  especially  when  that  courage  is  of  the  spirit,  an  invincible  re- 
ligious faith  and  fortitude.  Weak  and  unstable  Christians  found  inspira- 
tion in  these  saintly  lives,  and  by  continued  meditation  learned  many 
lessons  of  deep  meaning.  But,  in  addition  to  the  ethical  interest,  there 
was  sympathy  for  the  human  experiences  and  the  strange  and  fearful 
adventures  of  these  elect  of  the  Lord.  As  the  metrical  romances  minis- 
tered to  popular  delight  in  knightly  deeds,  so,  too,  these  legends  of  the 
saints  satisfied  the  world-old  love  of  struggle  and  of  victory.  Saint 
Margaret,  Saint  Katherine,  Saint  Juliana,  were  the  women  saints  whose 
lives  were  best  known  to  the  Middle  Ages,  but  the  many  legendaries 
of  the  day  gave  ample  record  of  scores  of  other  saints. 

For  versions  of  the  life  of  Saint  Margaret,  see  Early  English  Text 
Society,  No.  13.  "The  Golden  Legend"  in  seven  volumes  (Temple 
Classics,  E.  P.  Dutton  and  Company,  New  York)  contains  the  fullest 


NOTES  167 

collection  of  lives  of  the  saints.  Middle  English  collections  have  been 
edited  by  Carl  Horstmann.  Fox's  "  Book  of  Martyrs "  should  be 
remembered,  also. 

TIOUS  TALES 

The  superstitions  of  the  Middle  Ages  reveal  themselves  very  fully  in 
the  various  accounts  of  miracles  performed  by  God,  Christ,  the  Virgin, 
the  saints,  or  by  the  relics  treasured  in  churches  and  religious  houses. 
The  study  of  mediaeval  religious  life  must  include  an  examination  of 
some  of  these  fervent  and  naive  records  of  the  supernatural  power  of 
holy  objects  and  holy  folk.  The  intense  reverence  accorded  to  sancti- 
fied things  created,  among  mediaeval  Christians,  a  passionate  disregard 
for  the  dictates  of  human  reason.  At  first  this  blind  faith  and  total 
abasement  before  sacred  relics  was  a  triumph  of  the  spirit,  but  before 
long  it  became  a  triumph  of  the  body,  for  physical  well-being  and 
material  prosperity  were  sought  rather  than  spiritual  enlightenment.  In 
Chaucer's  Pardoner's  "  Prologue "  and  in  Erasmus's  account  of  his 
journeys  to  Walsingham  and  to  Canterbury  one  finds  pictured  the 
credulous  and  wholly  unlovely  side  of  the  subject.  When  idealism  de- 
clines and  becomes  sheer  bigotry,  without  the  charm  of  imaginative 
power,  it  must  have  its  Wiclif  and  its  Luther.^ 

A  Miracle  of  God's  Body 

"  A  Miracle  of  God's  Body  "  is  translated  from  Robert  Mannyng  of 
Brunne's  "  Handlyng  Synne  "  (Manual  of  Sins).  Early  English  Text 
Society,  No.  123,  p.  333.    See  also  p.  172  under  Homily. 

A  Miracle  of  the  Virgin 

"  A  Miracle  of  the  Virgin "  is  from  a  group  of  eight  miracles, 
printed  in  Horstmann's  edition  of  "  The  Minor  Poems  of  the  Vernon 
Manuscript."    Early  English  Text  Society,  Part  I,  No.  98,  pp.  138-166. 

Other  legends  connected  with  the  Virgin  are  to  be  found  in  the 
following  volumes : 

Underhill,  E.  The  Miracles  of  Our  Lady.  E.  P.  Dutton  &  Com- 
pany, New  York,  1906. 

Vincent,  E.  The  Madonna  of  Legend  and  History.  T.  Whittaker, 
New  York,  1899. 

Kemt  Welch,  A.,  Translator.  The  Miracles  of  Our  Lady,  by  Gautier 
de  Coincy.    Duffield  &  Company,  New  York,  191 1. 


168  NOTES 

The  Translation  of  Saint  Thomas  of  Canterbury 

"The  Translation  of  Saint  Thomas  of  Canterbury  "comes  from  Cax- 
ton's  "  Golden  Legend,"  which  should  be  consulted  for  a  long  account  of 
the  life  of  Thomas.  Dean  Stanley's  "  Memorials  of  Canterbury,"  now 
published  in  Everyman's  Library,  is  an  indispensable  volume  for  the 
student. 

ALLEGORY 

The  popularity  of  allegory,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  as  a  means  of  con- 
veying religious  and  moral  truth,  led  to  the  production  of  many  very 
complex  narratives  and  sermons.  An  acquaintance  with  "  Piers  Plow- 
man "  will  reveal  the  character  of  these  works  where  the  reader  is  soon 
lost  in  the  labyrinth  of  abstract  names.  "  The  Romance  of  the  Rose," 
translated  by  F.  S.  Ellis  (Temple  Classics,  3  vols.,  E.  P.  Dutton  & 
Company,  New  York),  is  the  most  important  example  of  secular  allegory 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  "  The  Order  of  Chivalry,"  a  poem  that  defines  the 
symbolism  of  the  knightly  habit,  will  be  found  in  Miss  Butler's  "  Tales 
from  the  Old  French,"  Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  Boston,  1910,  and 
also  (as  "  Sir  Hugh  of  Tabarie  ")  in  E.  Mason's  "  Aucassin  and  Nico- 
lette  and  Other  Mediaeval  Romances"  (Everyman's  Library,  E.  P. 
Dutton  &  Company,  New  York,  1909). 

For  discussion  of  the  origin  and  development  of  mediaeval  allegory, 
the  reader  should  consult 

Neilson,  W.  A.  Origins  and  Sources  of  the  Court  of  Love.  See 
"Allegory"  in  the  index.    Ginn  and  Company,  Boston,  1899. 

Langlois,  E.  Origines  et  sources  du  Roman  de  la  Rose,  chap.  iv. 
Paris,  1890. 

Owen,  D.  Piers  Plowman,  A  Comparison  with  French  Allegories. 
Hodder  and  Stoughton,  London,  191 2. 


"  The  Castle  of  Love  " 

This  extract  from  a  long  and  very  complex  poem  illustrates  signifi- 
cant aspects  of  mediaeval  religious  allegory.  The  poem  itself  was  written 
in  French  by  Robert  GrosseteSte,  Bishop  of  Lincoln  (who  died  in  1253), 
and  was  translated  into  English  several  times  because  of  its  great  popu- 
larity. Beginning  with  an  account  of  the  Creation  and  of  the  Fall  of 
Man,  the  poet  went  on  to  tell  a  parable  of  a  Being  who  had  one  Son, 


NOTES  169 

His  equal  in  all  ways,  four  daughters  (named  Mercy,  Truth,  Right,  and 
Peace),  and  a  thrall  (named  Adam),  who  was  in  prison.  Mercy  and 
Peace  pleaded  for  the  thrall's  release,  but  Truth  and  Right  objected,  so 
the  thrall  was  punished.  Mercy  and  Peace  fled  from  the  land,  and  the 
world  (except  Noah  and  his  family)  was  drowned.  Peace  once  more 
appealed  for  the  ransom  of  the  thrall,  and  the  King's  Son,  hearing  the 
dispute  of  the  four  sisters,  said  He  would  put  on  the  garments  of  the 
thrall  and  force  Peace  and  Right  to  be  reconciled,  and  the  world  would 
be  saved.  So  Christ  entered  into  the  Castle  of  Love,  and  was  born  on 
earth  for  the  redemption  of  mankind.  An  account  of  the  life  and  passion 
and  resurrection  of  Christ  is  given,  and  the  poem  concludes  with  a  prayer 
that  we  may  all  be  led  by  Him  to  everlasting  bliss. 

The  best  edition  of  the  English  version  is 

Horstmann,  C.  "  The  Minor  Poems  of  the  Vernon  Manuscript," 
Part  I,  Early  English  Text  Society,  No.  98.  This  edition  contains  a 
version  made  in  the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  also  a 
version  by  a  monk  of  Sawley,  in  Yorkshire.  The  present  extract  is 
taken  from  the  Sawley  monk's  translation  (11.  361-452)  because  that 
version  gives  the  allegory  in  more  coherent  and  careful  detail  than  do 
the  other  versions,  which  fail  to  explain  some  of  the  symbolism. 


BESTIARY 

Lion,  Eagle,  Whale,  Siren 

From  earliest  times  animals  have  been  employed  as  symbolic  figures 
by  teachers  and  preachers,  and  the  interest  of  the  present  day  in  animal 
life  and  lore  is  evidence  of  the  never-failing  pleasure  humanity  finds  in 
beast  books.  vEsop's  "  Fables,"  "  The  Little  Flowers  of  Saint  Francis," 
"  Reynard  the  Fox,"  and  "  The  Jungle  Stories  "  illustrate  various  sides 
of  the  literature  about  the  lesser  folk.  The  mediaeval  bestiary  was  a  book 
which  sought  to  enunciate  religious  instruction  by  an  appeal  to  the  curi- 
osity of  credulous  people.  The  didactic  interest  far  exceeded  the  scien- 
tific in  these  allegories  which,  to  us,  are  most  diverting  matter.  The 
source  of  the  bestiary  is  to  be  found  in  the  Greek  "  Physiologus " 
(second  century  a.d.),  which  was  translated  into  Latin  by  Theobaldus 
in  the  late  Middle  Ages,  and  then  into  other  languages.  In  Old  English 
literature  "  The  Whale  "  and  "  The  Panther  "  and  a  fragment  of  "  The 
Partridge"  are  all  that  remain  of  the  version  in  that  language.  The 
Middle  English  bestiary  of  the  thirteenth  century  contains  descriptions, 


170  NOTES 

followed  by  explication,  of  the  lion,  the  eagle,  the  adder,  the  ant,  the 
hart,  the  fox,  the  spider,  the  whale,  the  siren,  the  elephant,  the  turtle 
dove,  the  panther,  and  the  culver.  There  is  a  French  bestiary  written 
in  England  by  Philippe  de  Thaiin,  about  1120,  which  contains  a  portion 
of  a  lapidary  also.  A  translation  is  in  T.  Wright's  "  Popular  Treatises 
on  Science  written  during  the  Middle  Ages."    London,  1841. 

The  text  of  the  Middle  English  bestiary  may  be  found  in 

Morris,  R.  An  Old  English  Miscellany.  Early  English  Text  Society, 
No.  49. 

Maetzner,  E.   Altenglische  Sprachproben,  I,  55.    Berlin,  1867. 

Wright,  T.,  and  Halliwell,  J.  O.  Reliquiae  Antiquae,  I,  208. 
London,  1845. 

Suggestive  studies  on  the  subject  are 

Kittredge,  G.  L.    Beast  Fables,  in  Johnson's  Universal  Cyclopaedia. 

Land,  J.  P.  N.    Physiologos,  in  Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 

Lauchert,  F.    Geschichte  des  Physiologus.    Strassburg,  1889. 

In  the  popular  mediaeval  epic,  "  Reynard  the  Fox,"  animals,  very 
realistically  portrayed,  yet  with  satirical  symbolism,  are  the  actors  in  a 
story  full  of  interest  to  the  modern  reader.  This  is  accessible  in  the 
following  English  versions : 

Caxton,  W.    Reynard  the  Fox.   Percy  Society,  Vol.  XII.    London. 

Morley,  H.  Early  English  Prose  Romances.  E.  P.  Dutton  and  Com- 
pany, New  York,  191 2. 

Jacobs,  J.  The  Most  Delectable  History  of  Reynard  the  Fox. 
Macmillan  and  Company,  London,  1895. 

LAPIDARY 

Selections  from  Lapidaries 

Marbodus,  Bishop  of  Rennes  in  the  twelfth  century,  was  the  author 
of  the  lapidary  which  was  best  known  during  the  Middle  Ages.  This 
book,  called  "  De  Gemmis,"  was  written  in  Latin  verse,  and  gives 
the  strange  superstitions  about  the  virtues  and  efficacies  of  sixty 
stones.  Many  of  these  stones  are  now  unknown  to  us.  There  was  so 
much  interest  in  this  lapidary  that  it  was  frequently  translated  into 
French,  both  in  verse  form  and  in  prose,  and  was  popular  in  England 
as  well  as  in  France.  The  traditions  about  stones  developed  two  sorts 
of  treatise :  one  in  which  the  purely  pagan  beliefs  are  represented,  as 
they  were  handed  down  by  Aristotle,  Pliny,  Marbodus,  and  others;  and 
a  second  in  which  the  pagan  superstitions  are  inwrought  with  Christian 


NOTES  171 

teachings  and  associated  with  Scriptural  passages.  In  translating  Mar- 
bodus,  a  Christian  clerk  would  add  and  alter  material  in  such  a  way  as 
to  impress  religious  symbolisms  upon  his  readers,  through  the  popular 
interest  in  all  the  lore  of  stones. 

Information  regarding  the  lapidaries,  as  well  as  editions  of  various 
French  and  other  lapidaries,  will  be  found  in  the  following  books : 

Pannier,  L.  Les  Lapidaires  francais  du  moyen-age  des  xile,  xnie, 
et  xive  siecles.    Paris,   1882. 

Meyer,  P.  Les  Plus  Anciens  Lapidaires  francais.  Romania  (Jan., 
Avril,  Oct.).    Paris,  1909. 

King,  C.  W.  Antique  Gems.  Contains  a  translation  of  the  work  of 
Marbodus.    London,  i860. 

■  Streeter,  E.  W.   Precious  Stones  and  Gems,  their  History,  Sources, 
and  Characteristics.    Illustrated  in  color.    London,  1898. 

Wright,  T.  Popular  Treatises  on  Science  written  during  the  Middle 
Ages.    London,  1841. 

The  accounts  of  diamond,  sapphire,  amethyst,  geratite,  chelidonius, 
coral,  heliotrope,  pearl,  and  pantheros  are  translated  from  a  French 
prose  version  of  the  Latin  of  Marbodus.  The  French  translation  was 
made,  perhaps,  in  England  during  the  twelfth  century.  The  text  will 
be  found  in  Meyer,  pp.  271-285.  The  French  prose  lapidary  has  been 
chosen  rather  than  that  in  verse  form,  because  it  has  fewer  tags  and 
circumlocutions,  and  can  be  more  faithfully  rendered  into  English. 

The  diamond,  or  adamant,  was  a  favorite  stone.  "  The  Travels  of  Sir 
John  Mandeville,"  pp.  105-108,  The  Macmillan  Company,  New  York, 
1905,  has  an  interesting  account  of  this. 

The  pearl  has  been  the  subject  of  much  discussion.  The  present 
translation  omits  several  lines  in  the  French  version  which  do  not  ap- 
pear in  Marbodus  and  which  seem  to  be  due  to  confusion  with  another 
stone.  Consult  Kunz  and  Stevenson's  "The  Book  of  the  Pearl,"  The 
Century  Company,  New  York,  1908,  and  pp.  599-610  of  Schofield's 
article  "  Symbolism,  Allegory,  and  Autobiography  in  The  Pearl." 
Publications  of  the  Modern  Language  Association,  Vol.  XVII. 

The  extract  describing  the  carbuncle  is  from  Pannier,  p.  295,  where  a 
prose  fragment  of  a  Christian  lapidary  is  given.  The  carbuncle  was  fre- 
quently mentioned  in  mediaeval  romances,  and  was  supposed  to  give 
success  in  battle,  and  also  in  lawsuits  (see  Meyer,  p.  67). 

The  account  of  the  symbolism  of  the  twelve  stones  comes  from 
Philippe  de  Thaiin's  "  Bestiaire,"  verses  2977-3004.  The  Oxford  Bible 
gives  classified  lists  of  stones  mentioned  in  the  Scriptures. 


172  NOTES 

HOMILY 
Concerning  Miracle  Plays,  Games,  and  Minstrelsy 

Homilies  in  prose  and  in  verse  were  a  common  means  of  instruction. 
They  were  usually  more  popular  than  mere  sermons  and  sought  to  hold 
the  attention  by  the  use  of  copious  illustration.  The  following  extract 
is  from  "  Handlyng  Synne"  (Manual  of  Sins),  translated  in  1303  by 
Robert  Mannyng  of  Brunne,  from  a  French  original,  and  edited  by 
Dr.  Furnivall,  Early  English  Text  Society,  No.  1 19.  "  Handlyng  Synne," 
a  collection  of  homilies,  denounces  the  seven  deadly  sins,  citing  many 
concrete  instances  of  fact  and  of  fable  in  order  to  enforce  the  moral 
lessons.  The  translation  below  interprets  lines  4637-4774  (pp.  155-159), 
where  the  sin  of  sloth  is  under  discussion. 

For  information  about  minstrelsy  the  student  should  consult 

Chambers,  E.  K.  The  Mediaeval  Stage,  Vol.  I,  bk.  i.  Oxford  Uni- 
versity Press,  1903. 

Galpin,  F.  W.  Old  English  Instruments  of  Music.  A.  C.  McClurg 
&  Co.,  Chicago,  191 1. 

Duncan,  E.  The  Story  of  Minstrelsy.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  New 
York,  1907. 

Cutts,  E.  Scenes  and  Characters  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Vertue  and 
Company,  London,  1886. 


SATIRE 

The  most  popular  satire  in  the  Middle  Ages  is  found  in  the  fabliaux, 
short  tales  which  picture,  with  great  zest,  racy  incidents  in  the  lives  of 
common  people  whose  hidden  sins  or  hypocrisies  are  suddenly  ex- 
posed. The  satire  in  these  stories  is  exceedingly  broad  and  attacks, 
by  preference,  women  and  the  clergy,  painting  with  vivid  realism  their 
immorality  and  intense  selfishness.  Readers  will  find  information  re- 
garding these  in  "  The  English  Fabliau,"  by  H.  S.  Canby,  Publications 
of  the  Modem  Language  Association,  XXI,  200-214.  Formal  satire, 
which  points  out  abuses  and  vices  by  means  of  exposition,  is  illus- 
trated in  the  poems  following.  Satire  against  women  is  most  agree- 
ably found  in  "  The  Romance  of  the  Rose,"  chaps,  xlvi-lii  (translated 
by  F.  S.  Ellis,  Temple  Classics).  In  Romania,  XV,  315,  339;  XVI, 
389;  XXXVI,  1,  will  be  found  interesting  matter  relating  to  satires 
on  women,  in  France. 


NOTES  173 

The  Song  of  the  University  of  Paris 

This  is  freely  translated  from  the  French  poem  of  Rutebeuf,  written 
in  octosyllabic  couplets,  about  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
Rutebeuf  was  a  famous  minstrel  whose  vivid  wit  gave  him  a  distin- 
guished place  among  mediaeval  writers.  His  works  are  full  of  autobio- 
graphical details ;  he  pictured  his  unhappy  domestic  life,  his  poverty, 
all  his  failings,  and  his  virtues  with  an  engaging  frankness.  In  allegory 
he  was  a  master  of  the  mannerisms  of  his  day.  In  satire  he  was  original 
and  clever.  The  monastic  orders  aroused  his  fiercest  resentment,  and 
he  made  sharp  epigrams  at  their  expense,  accusing  them  of  committing 
the  seven  deadly  sins  and  more.  The  dry  incisiveness  of  his  ridicule 
may  have  impressed  Chaucer  and  also  the  author  of  "  Piers  Plow- 
man," although  we  have  no  proof  of  this.  A  very  good  study  of  Rute- 
beuf has  been  published  by  L.  Cledat,  Paris,  1891.  The  description  of 
the  mediaeval  student  gives  a  true  picture  of  the  day,  but  Chaucer's 
description  of  the  Clerk  of  Oxford  should  be  read  as  complement.  For 
details  regarding  student  life  of  the  Middle  Ages,  consult 

Rashdall,  H.  The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
3  vols.    London,   1895. 

Hewett,  W.  T.  University  Life  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Harper's 
Magazine,   1897. 

Symonds,  J.  A.  Wine,  Women  and  Song  (translations  of  many  stu- 
dent songs  of  the  Middle  Ages).    Chatto  and  Windus,  London,  1907. 

The  Land  of  Cockaygne 

The  meaning  of  Cockaygne  is  usually  understood  to  be  "cookery."  This 
satire  upon  the  mediaeval  monks  was  probably  derived  from  a  French 
original.  It  illustrates  the  contemptuous  tolerance  of  that  day  for  the 
greed,  the  gluttony,  the  slothfulness,  and  the  immorality  of  the  inmates 
of  the  monastery.  The  satire  directed  against  literary  conventions  of  the 
day  is  particularly  amusing,  if  we  notice  how  the  various  catalogues  of 
animals,  birds,  spices,  flowers,  jewels,  and  food  parody  similar  cata- 
logues in  the  romances  and  in  the  poems  describing  paradise.  The 
poem  was  written,  in  the  short  couplet,  about  the  middle  of  the  thir- 
teenth century.  It  is  printed  in  E.  Maetzner's  "Altenglische  Sprach- 
proben,"  I,  148.  Berlin,  1867.  Wright's  "  St.  Patrick's  Purgatory," 
London,  1844,  contains  an  interesting  chapter  on  this  and  similar 
burlesques. 


174  NOTES 

The  Complaint  of  the  Husbandman 

This  "  complaint,"  or  "  song,"  was  written  during  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury when  the  persecutions  of  the  poor  farmers  by  lords  and  their  offi- 
cers were  most  extreme.  The  poem  explains  very  fully  the  various 
abuses  which  finally  so  incensed  the  poor  that  they  rose  in  revolt  and 
won  certain  rights  from  their  oppressors.  The  Middle  English  text  is 
found  in  K.  Boeddeker's  "Altenglische  Dichtungen,"  p.  102,  Berlin, 
1878,  and  in  T.Wright's  "  Political  Songs,"  Camden  Society,  Vol.  VI, 
p.  149. 

The  meter  and  rime  of  the  original  have  been  kept,  in  this  translation, 
even  at  the  risk  of  a  few  very  slight  changes  in  the  order  or  in  the 
phrasing  of  the  original,  because  the  versification  is  so  illustrative  of 
the  transition  from  the  old  alliterative  line  to  the  elaborate  stanza  forms 
of  the  French  period. 

Sir  Penny 

This  satire  was  evidently  a  popular  one  in  the  Middle  Ages ;  it  is 
found  in  various  forms  in  Latin,  in  French,  and  in  English.  The  fol- 
lowing translation  is  made  from  a  version,  probably  of  about  1350, 
printed  in  Thomas  Wright's  "  Latin  Poems  attributed  to  Walter 
Mapes,"  Camden  Society,  Vol.  XVI,  pp.  359-361.  The  poem  is  written 
in  the  six-line,  tail-rime  stanza  of  "  Sir  Thopas,"  and  the  translation 
seeks  to  preserve  the  cadences,  movement,  and  structure  of  the  origi- 
nal. It  is  interesting  in  connection  with  "  Piers  Plowman  "  and  "  The 
Pardoner's  Tale,"  for  it  shows  the  great  superiority  of  those  satires, 
in  imaginative  appeal.  The  generalizations  here  are  faithful,  but  they 
lack  point  and  effectiveness  because  they  do  not  drive  home  specific 
instances  about  individuals.  We  have  a  personal  interest  in  Lady  Meed 
and  in  the  Pardoner,  but  we  care  little  about  classes  and  types. 

LAY 

Sir  Orfeo 

This  Middle  English  version  of  a  French  lay  seems  to  offer  so  few 
difficulties  that  it  is  given  in  its  original  form,  as  it  appears  in  the 
Auchinleck  manuscript.  The  text  is  copied  from  that  edited  by  Laing 
in  "  Select  Pieces  of  Ancient  Popular  Poetry  of  Scotland,"  reprinted 
in  Edinburgh,  1884.  A  critical  edition  of  the  poem  was  published  by 
O.  Zielke,  Breslau,  1880.  A  very  charming  free  translation  in  stanza 
form  has  been  made  by  E.  E.  Hunt,  Cambridge,  1909. 


NOTES  175 

"  Sir  Orfeo  "  is  the  mediaeval  interpretation  of  the  story  of  Orpheus 
and  Eurydice  (Ovid's  "Metamorphoses,"  bk.  x,  11.1-77),  which  was  told 
in  French,  and  then  translated  by  some  nameless  but  immortal  English 
poet.  The  beauty  of  this  Middle  English  version  is  undeniable.  De- 
spite its  brevity  and  its  occasionally  laconic  phrases,  the  poem  shows 
real  pathos  in  the  account  of  the  passionate  grief  of  Orfeo,  and  his 
desolate  wanderings  in  search  of  his  lady.  The  concrete  vividness  of 
color  and  fragrance  in  nature,  the  dim  stateliness  of  the  retinue  of  the  king 
of  fairyland,  the  magic  beauty  of  his  strange  abode,  are  described  with 
true  poetic  sensitiveness.  In  choice  of  detail,  in  management  of  incident, 
in  "  discovery,"  and  in  conclusion  the  narrative  is  singularly  well  managed. 

As  a  mediaeval  rendering  of  a  classical  tale,  the  poem  has  many 
charms,  because  it  so  naively  and  so  completely  changes  the  setting 
and  insists  upon  mediaeval  towers  and  dress  and  customs.  Pluto's  dark 
realm  is  transformed  into  a  fairy  kingdom,  Thrace  has  become  Win- 
chester, and  the  wandering  Greek  is  a  Breton  harper  knocking  at  the 
door  of  a  Gothic  castle.  As  a  version  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  world's  stories,  this  lay  has  true  imaginative  distinction ;  it  pictures 
the  loyalty  of  love  and  love's  power  over  time  and  fairy  spells,  but  it 
willfully  changes  the  outcome  of  the  old  story  to  suit  the  sentiment  of 
high  romance  in  an  age  when  every  tale  must  have  a  happy  ending. 

Other  lays,  or  brief  tales,  are  described  in  W.  H.  Schofield's  "  Eng- 
lish Literature  from  the  Norman  Conquest  to  Chaucer,"  p.  179.  The 
Macmillan  Company,  New  York,  1906.  "  Launfal,"  a  lay  of  fairyland, 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful.  The  lays  of  Marie  de  France  are  accessible 
in  the  following  translations  : 

Weston,  J.  Four  Lais  of  Marie  de  France  (including  "Launfal"). 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  New  York,  1901. 

Rickert,  E.  Seven  Lais  of  Marie  de  France.  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons,  New  York,  1901. 

Fairy  lore  is  discussed  by  many  students.  The  volumes  named  below 
will  be  found  serviceable  to  the  student  of  English  literature : 

Paton,  L.  A.  Studies  in  the  Fairy  Mythology  of  Arthurian  Romance. 
Ginn  and  Company,  Boston,  1903. 

Nutt,  A.  The  Fairy  Mythology  of  Shakespeare.  David  Nutt,  Lon- 
don, 1900. 

Hazlitt,  W.  C.  Fairy  Tales,  Lays,  and  Romances  Illustrating  Shake- 
speare.   London,  1875. 

Sidgwick,  F.  The  Sources  and  Analogues  of  "A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream."    Duffield  &  Company,  New  York,  1908. 


176  NOTES 

In  translating  the  poem  the  student  should  pronounce  all  the  unknown 
words  aloud  and  he  will  speedily  recognize  resemblances  to  modern 
words.  J' is  the  pronoun  "I,"  but  sometimes  it  is  part  of  the  past  parti- 
ciple, — y-hold  =  "  held."  Ich  is  "  I,"  and  also  "  each."  Frequently  a 
pronoun  and  a  verb  are  combined,  as  ichil  —  "  I  will  "  ;  wiltow  =  "  wilt 
thou  "  ;  sometimes  the  negative  particle  is  combined  with  a  verb,  as  in 
nis  =  "  is  not "  ;  nil  =  "  will  not."  Owhen  =  "  own  "  ;  yif-  "  if."  It  is 
assumed  that  readers  will  recognize  the  words  used  in  the  ballads  or  in 
Spenser's  works.  If  there  are  words  which  are  not  recognized  they  can 
be  found  in  the  New  English  Dictionary,  or  in  the  New  International 
Dictionary,  or  in  Bradley  and  Stratmann's  Middle  English  Dictionary. 


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